11 



GassJ 

Book >C 5 b^=_ 



SERMONS, 

PREACHED IN THE TRON CHURCH, 

BY 

THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. 

— — i -miniur. 

MINISTER OF THE TRON CHURCH, GLASGOW. 



GLASGOW PRINTED. 
NEW-YORK, REPRINTED, 

FOR KIRK & MERCEIN, NO. 22 WALL-STREET. 



William A. Mer-ein, Printer. 



1319. 



4 



TO 

THE MEMBERS 

OF THE 

IRON CHURCH CONGREGATION, GLASGOW, 
THE FOLLOWING SERMONS 
ARE INSCRIBED, 

WITH A LIVELY FEELING ON THE PART OF THEIR AUTHOR, 
OF ALL THE KINDNESS AND GOOD WILL 
WHICH HE HAS EXPERIENCED, 
DURING THE TIME OF HIS CONNEXION WITH THEM* 
AND 

WITH EVERT ASSURANCE OF HIS AFFECTIONATE DESIRE 
FOR THEIR BEST INTERESTS, 



PREFACE 



I 



The doctrine which is most urgently, and most 
frequently insisted on in the following volume, 
is that of the depravity of human nature, and 
it were certainly cruel to expose the un worthi- 
ness of man for the single object of disturbing 
him. But the cruelty is turned into kindness, 
when, along with the knowledge of the disease, 
there is offered an adequate and all-powerful 
remedy. It is impossible to have a true per- 
ception of our own character, in the sight of 
God, without feeling our need of acquittal; 
and in opposition to every obstacle, which the 



fi PREFACE. 

justice of God seems to hold out to it, this want 
is provided for in the Gospel. And it is equal- 
ly impossible, to have a true perception of the 
character of God, as being utterly repugnant 
to sin, without feeling the need of amendment; 
and in opposition to every obstacle, which 
the impotency of man holds out to it, this want 
is also provided for in the Gospel. There we 
behold the amplest securities for the peace of 
the guilty. But there do we also behold secu- 
rities equally ample for their progress, and 
their perfection in holiness. Insomuch, that 
in every genuine disciple of the New Testa- 
ment, we not only see one who, delivered from 
the burden of his fears, rejoices in hope of a 
coming glory — but we see one who, set free 
from the bondage of corruption, and animated 
by a new love and a new desire, is honest in 
the purposes, and strenuous in the efforts, and 
abundant in the works of obedience. He feels 



PREFACE. vii 

the instigations of sin, and in this respect he 
differs from an angel. But he follows not the 
instigations of sin, and in this respect he dif- 
fers from a natural or unconverted man. He 
may experience the motions of the flesh — but 
he walks not after the flesh. So that in him 
we may view the picture of a man, struggling 
with effect against his earth-born propensities, 
and yet hateful to himself for the very exist- 
ence of them — holier than any of the people 
around him, and yet humbler than them all — 
realizing, from time to time, a positive increase 
to the grace and excellency of his character, 
and yet becoming more tenderly conscious 
every day of its remaining deformities — gradu- 
ally expanding in attainment, as well as in 
desire, towards the light and the liberty of 
heaven, and yet groaning under a yoke from 
which death- alone will fully emancipate him. 



\ 



viii 



PREFACE. 



When time and space have restrained an 
author of sermons from entering on what may 
be called the ethics of Christianity — it is the 
more incumbent on him to avouch of the doc- 
trine of the gospel, that while it provides di- 
rectly for the peace of a sinner, it provides no 
less, directly and efficiently for the purity of 
his practice — that faith in this doctrine never 
terminates in itself, but is a mean to holiness 
as an end — and that he who truly accepts of 
Christ, as the alone foundation of his merito- 
rious acceptance before God, is stimulated, by 
the circumstances of his new condition, to 
breathe holy purposes, and to abound in holy 
performances. He is created anew unto good 
works. He is made the workmanship of God 
in Christ Jesus. 

The anxious enforcement of one great les- 
son on the part of a writer, generally proceeds 



PREFACE, 



It 



from the desire to effect a full , and adequate 
conveyance, into the mind of another, of some 
truth which has filled his own mind, by a sense 
of its importance; and, in offering this volume 
to the public, the author is far from being in- 
sensible to the literary defects that from this 
cause may be charged upon it. He knows, in 
particular, that throughout these discourses 
there is a frequent recurrence of the same idea, 
though generally expressed in different lan- 
guage, and with some new speciality, either in 
its bearing or in its illustration. And he further 
knows, that the habit of expatiating on one 
topic may be indulged to such a length, as to 
satiate the reader, and that, to a degree, far 
beyond the limits of his forbearance. 

And yet, if a writer be Conscious that, to 
gain a reception for his favourite doctrine, 
he must combat with certain elements of op- 
position, in the taste, or the pride, or the indo 

1 # 



s 



PREFACE. 



lence, of those whom he is addressing, this 
will only serve to make him the more importu- 
nate, and so to betray him still farther into 
the fault of redundancy. If the lesson he is 
urging be of an intellectual character, he will 
labour to bring it home, as nearly as possi- 
ble, to the understanding. If it be a moral 
lesson, he will labour to bring it home, as near- 
ly as possible, to the heart. It is difficult, 
and it were hard to say in how far it would 
be right, to restrain this propensity in the 
pulpit, where the high matters of salvation 
are addressed to a multitude of individuals, 
who bring before the minister every possible 
variety of taste and of capacity; and it is 
no less difficult, when the compositions of the 
pulpit are transferred to the press, to detach 
from them a peculiarity by which their whole 
texture may be pervaded, and thus to free 
them from what may be counted by many to 



PREFACE. 



be the blemish of a very great and character- 
istic deformity. 

There is, however, a difference between 
Such truths as are merely of a speculative 
nature, and such as are allied with practice 
and moral feeling; and much ought to be con- 
ceded to this difference. With the former, 
all repetition may often be superfluous ; with 
the latter, it may just be by earnest repetition, 
that their influence comes to be thoroughly 
established over the mind of an inquirer. And 
if so much as one individual be gained over 
in this way to the cause of righteousness, 
he is untrue to the spirit and to the obliga- 
tions of his office, who would not, for the sake 
of this one, willingly hazard all the rewards, 
and all the honours of literary estimation. 

And, if there be one truth which, more than 
another, should be habitually presented to 



xn 



PREFACE. 



the notice, and proposed to the conviction of 
fallen creatures, it is the humbling truth of 
their own depravity. This is a truth which 
may be recognised and read in every exhibi- 
tion of unrenewed nature ; but it often lurks 
under a specious disguise, and it is surely of 
the utmost practical importance to unveil and 
elicit a principle, which, when admitted into 
the heart, may be considered as the great basis 
of a sinner's religion. 



CONTENTS* 



SERMON J. 



THE NECESSITY OF THE SPIRIT TO GIVE EFFECT TO THE 
PREACHING OF THE GOSPEL. 

And my speech, and my preaching, was not with enticing 
words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the 
Spirit and of power ; that your faith should not stand in 
the wisdom of men, but in the power of God," — 1 Cor. 



SERMON II. 



THE MYSTERIOUS ASPECT OF THE GOSPEL TO THE MEN OF 
THE WORLD. 

Then said I, Ah, Lord God ! they say of me. Doth he 
not speak parables ?" — Ezek. xje. 49. 40 



CONTENTS. 



SERMON m 

THE PREPARATION NECESSARY FOR UNDERSTANDING THE 
MYSTERIES OF THE GOSPEL. 

" He answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto 
you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, 
but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, to him. 
shall be given, and he shall have more abundance; but 
whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even 
that he hath."— Matth. xiii. 11, 12. - - 64 

SERMON IV. 

AN ESTIMATE OF THE MORALITY THAT IS WITHOUT GODLI- 
NESS. 

" If I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands 
never so clean ; yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and 
mine own clothes shall abhor me. For he is not a man, 
as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come 
together in judgment. Neither is there any day's-man 
betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both." — 
job ix. SO — 33. - 87 

SERMON V. 

THE JUDGMENT OF MEN COMPARED WITH THE JUDGMENT 
OF GOD. 

" With me it is a very small thing that I should be judged 
of you, or of man's judgment; — he that judgeth me is 
the Lord."— 1 Cor. iv, 3, 4. 10? 

SERMON VI. 

THE NECESSITY OF A MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. 

" Neither is there any day's-man betwixt us, that might lay 
his hand upon us both." — job ix. 38. - - - - 133 



CONTENTS. XT 



SERMON VII. 

THE FOLLY OF MEN MEASURING THEMSELVES BY THEM= ' 
SELVES. 

" For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or com- 
pare ourselves with some that commend themselves: but 
they, measuring themselves by themselves, and com- 
paring themselves among themselves, are not wise."— 
2 Cor. x. 12. - - - - - - =14$ 

SERMON VIIL 

CHRIST THE WISDOM OF GOD. 

" Christ the wisdom of God."— 1 Cor. i. 24. - - = 174 
SERMON IX. 

THE PRINCIPLES OF LOVE. 

; * Keep yourselves in the love of God." — Jude 21. - - 190 
SERMON X. 

GRATITUDE NOT A SORDID AFFECTION. 

" We love him, because he first loved us." — 1 John iv. 19. 217 
SERMON XI. 

THE AFFECTION OF MORAL ESTEEM TOWARDS GOD. 

* One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek 
after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the 
days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and 
to inquire in his temple." — Psalm xxvii. 4, - - - 249 

SERMON XII. 

THE EMPTINESS OF NATURAL VIRTUE. 

v But I know you, that ye have not the love of God in 
you." — John v. 42. - - - - - - 276 



CONTENTS. 



SERMON XIII. 

THE NATURAL ENMITY OF THE MIND AGAINST GOD* 

" The carnal mind is enmity against God."— Rom. viii. 7. 31S 
SERMON XIV. 

THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL TO DISSOLVE THE ENMITY OF 
THE HUMAN HEART AGAINST GOD. 

*' Having slain the enmity thereby."— Ephes. ii- 16. - 334 
SERMON XV. 

THE EVILS OF FALSE SECURITY. 

" They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my 
people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no 
peace." — Jer. vi. 14 - - - - - - - 352 

SERMON XVI. 

THE UNION OF TRUTH AND MERCY IN THE GOSPEL. 

w Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and 
peace have kissed each other." — Psalm Ixxxv- 10. - 377 

SERMON XVII. 

THE PURIFYING INFLUENCE OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. 

" Sanctified by faith." — Acts xxvi. 1% ' - 394 



SERMON I 



THE NECESSITY OF THE SPIRIT TO GIVE EFFECT TO 
•' THE PREACHING OF THE GOSPEL. 



1 Corinthians, ii. 4, 5. 

M And my speech, and my preaching, was not with en- 
ticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of 
the Spirit and of power : that your faith should not stand 
in the wisdom of man, but in the power of God." 

Paul, in his second epistle to the Corinthians, 
has expressed himself to the same effect as in 
the text, in the following words : " Not that we 
are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as 
of ourselves ; but our sufficiency is of God; who 
also hath made us able ministers of the New 
Testament; not of the letter, but of the Spirit." 

In both these passages, the Apostle points to 
a speciality in the work of a Christian teacher, 
— a something essential to its success, and 
which is not essential to the proficiency of scho- 
lars in the ordinary branches of education, — 
an influence that is beyond the reach of human 
power and human wisdom; and to obtain which, 
immediate recourse must be had, in the way of 
prayer and dependence, to the power of God. 

2 



10 



SERMON I. 



Without attempting a full exposition of these 
different verses, we shall, first, endeavour to di- 
rect your attention to that part of the work of 
a Christian teacher, which it has in common 
with any other kind of education; and, secondly, 
offer a few remarks on the speciality that is 
adverted to in the text. 

I. And here it must be admitted, that, even 
in the ordinary branches of human learning, the 
success of the teacher, on the one hand, and 
the proficiency of the scholars on the other, are 
still dependent on the will of God. It is true, 
that, in this case, we are not so ready to feel 
our dependence. God is apt to be overlooked 
in all those cases where he acts with unifor- 
mity. Wherever we see, what we call, the 
operation of a law of nature, we are apt to 
shut our eye against the operation of his hand, 
and faith in the constancy of this law, is sure 
to beget, in the mind, a sentiment of independ- 
ence on the power and will of the Deity. Now, 
in the matters of human education, God acts 
with uniformity. Let there be zeal and ability 
on the part of the teacher, and an ordinary 
degree of aptitude on the part of the taught, — 
and the result of their vigorous and well sus- 
tained co-operation may in general be counted 
upon. Let the parent, who witnesses his son's 
capacity, and his generous ambition for im- 
provement, send him to a well-qualified in- 



SERMON I. 



11 



structor, and he will be filled with the hope- 
ful sentiment of his future eminence, without 
any reference to God whatever, — without 
so much as ever thinking of his purpose or 
of his agency in the matter, or its once occur- 
ring to him to make the proficiency of his son 
the subject of prayer. This is the way in 
which nature, by the constancy of her opera- 
tions, is made to usurp the place of God : and 
it goes far to spread, and to establish the de- 
lusion, when we attend to the obvious fact, that 
a man of the most splendid genius may be des- 
titute of piety ; that he may fill the office of an 
instructor with the greatest talent and success, 
and yet be without reverence for God, and 
practically disown him ; and that thousands of 
our youth may issue every year warm from the 
schools of Philosophy, stored with all her les- 
sons, and adorned with all her accomplish- 
ments, and yet be utter strangers to the power 
of godliness, and be filled with an utter dis- 
taste and antipathy for its name. All this 
helps on the practical conviction, that common 
education is a business, with which prayer and 
the exercise of dependence on God, have no 
concern. It is true that a Christian parent 
will see through the vanity of this delusion. 
Instructed to make his requests known unto 
God in all things, he will not depose him from 
the supremacy of his power and of his govern- 
ment over this one thin£, — he will commit to God 



,) 



12 SERMON h 

the progress of his son in every one branch of 
education he may put him to, — and, knowing 
that the talent of every teacher, and the con- 
tinuance of his zeal, and his powers of commu- 
nication, and his faculty of interesting the at- 
tention of his pupils, — that all these are the 
gifts of God, and may be withdrawn by him at 
pleasure, — he will not suffer the regular march 
and movement of what is visible or created to 
cast him out of his dependence on the Creator. 
He will see that every one element which 
enters into the business of education, and con- 
spires to the result of an accomplished and a 
well-informed scholar is in the hand of the 
Deity, and he will pray for the continuation of 
these elements, — and while science is raising 
her wondrous monuments, and drawing the 
admiration of the world after her, — it remains 
to be seen, on the day of the revelation of hid- 
den things, whether the prayers of the humble 
and derided Christian, for a blessing on those 
to whom he has confided the object of his ten- 
derness, have not sustained the vigour and the 
brilliancy of those very talents on which the 
world is lavishing the idolatry of her praise. 

Let us now conceive the very ablest of these 
teachers, to bring all his powers and all his ac- 
complishments, to bear on the subject of Christi- 
anity. Has he skill in the languages ? The very 
same process by w hich he gets at the meaning 
of any ancient author, carries him to a fair 



SERMON L 



13 



and a faithful rendering of the scriptures 
of the Old and New Testament. Has he a 
mind enlightened and exercised on questions 
of erudition ? The very same principles which 
qualify him to decide on the genuineness of 
any old publication, enable him to demonstrate 
the genuineness of the Bible, and how fully 
sustained it is on the evidence of history. 
Has he that sagacity and comprehension of ta- 
lent, by which he can seize on the leading- 
principles which run through the writings of 
some eminent philosopher ? This very exercise 
may be gone through on the writings of Inspir- 
ation; and the man, who, with the works of 
Aristotle before him, can present the world 
with the best system or summary of his prin- 
ciples, might transfer these very powers to the 
works of the Apostles and Evangelists, and pre- 
sent the world with a just and interesting 
survey of the doctrines of our faith. And thus 
it is, that the man who might stand the highest 
of his fellows in the field of ordinary scholar- 
ship, might turn his entire mind to the field of 
Christianity ; and by the very same kind of ta- 
lent, which would have made him the most 
eminent of all the philosophers, he might come 
to be counted the most eminent of all the the- 
ologians ; and he who could have reared to his 
fame some monument of literary genius, might 
now, by the labours of his midnight oil, rear 
some beauteous and consistent fabric of ortho- 



u 



SERMON I. 



doxy, strengthened, in all its parts, by one un- 
broken chain of reasoning, and recommended 
throughout by the powers of a persuasive and 
captivating eloquence. 

So much for the talents which a Christian 
teacher may employ, in common with other 
teachers, and even though they did make up 
all the qualifications necessary for his office, 
there would still be a call, as we said before, for 
the exercise of dependence upon God. Well 
do we know, that both he and his hearers would 
be apt to put their faith in the uniformity of 
nature ; and forgetting that it is the inspiration 
of the Almighty which giveth and preserveth 
the understanding of all his creatures, might 
be tempted to repose that confidence in man, 
which displaces God from the sovereignty 
that belongs to him. But what we wish to pre- 
pare you for, by the preceding observations, is, 
that you may understand the altogether pecu- 
liar call, that there is for dependence on God in 
the case of a Christian teacher. We have made 
a short enumeration of those talents which a 
teacher ofChristianity might possess, in common 
with other teachers ; but it is for the purpose 
of proving that he might possess them all, and 
heightened to such a degree, if you will, as 
would have made him illustrious on any other 
field, and yet be utterly destitute of powers for 
acquiring himself, or of experience for teach- 
ing others, that knowledge of God and of Jesus 
Christ which is life everlasting. 



SERMON I. 



Id 



With the many brilliant and imposing things 
which he may have, there is one thing which 
he may not have, and the want of that one 
thing may form an invincible barrier to his use- 
fulness in the vineyard of Christ. If, conscious 
that he wants it, he seek to obtain from God 
the sufficiency which is not in himself, then he 
is in a likely way of being put in possession of 
that power, which alone is mighty to the pull- 
ing dow r n of strongholds. But if he, on the 
one hand, proudly conceiving the sufficiency to 
be in himself, enters with aspiring confidence 
into the field of argument, and think that he is 
to carry all before him, by a series of invincible 
demonstrations ; or, if his people, on the other 
hand, ever ready to be set in motion by the idle 
impulse of novelty, or to be seduced by the glare 
of human accomplishments, come in trooping 
multitudes around him, and hang on the elo- 
quence of his lips, or the wisdom of his able and 
profound understanding, a more unchristian at- 
titude cannot be conceived, nor shall we ven- 
ture to compute the weekly accumulation of 
guilt which may come upon the parties, when 
such a business as this is going on. How little 
must the presence of God be felt in that place 
where the high functions of the pulpit are degrad- 
ed into a stipulated exchange of entertainment 
on the one side, and of admiration on the other; 
and surely it were a sight to make angels weep 
when a weak and vapouring mortal, surround- 



16 



SERMON L 



ed by his fellow sinners, and hastening to the 
grave and the judgment along with them, finds 
it a dearer object to his bosom, to regale his 
hearers by the exhibition of himself, than to do 
in plain earnest the work of his Master, and 
urge on the business of repentance and of faith 
by the impressive simplicities of the Gospel. 

II. This brings us to the second head of 
discourse, under which we shall attempt to 
give you a clear view of what that is which con- 
stitutes a speciality in the work of a Christian 
teacher. And to carry you at once by a few 
plain instances to the matter we are aiming to 
impress upon you, let us suppose a man to take 
up his Bible, and, with the same powers of at- 
tention and understanding which enable him to 
comprehend the subject of any other book, 
there is much in this book also which he will 
be able to perceive and to talk of intelligently. 
Thus, for example, he may come, by the mere 
exercise of his ordinary powers, to understand, 
that it is the Holy Spirit which taketh of the 
things of Christ and showeth them to the mind 
of man. But is not his understanding of 
this truth, as it is put down in the plain lan- 
guage of the New Testament, a very different 
thing from the Holy Spirit actually taking of 
these things and showing them unto him? 
Again, he will be able to say, and to annex a 
plain meaning to what he says, that man is res- 
cued from his natural darkness about the things 



SERMON I. 



17 



of God, by God who created the light out of 
darkness shining in his heart, and giving him 
the light of the knowledge of his glory in the 
face of J esus Christ. But is not his saying this, 
and understanding this, by taking up these 
words in the same obvious way in which any 
man of plain and honest understanding would 
do, a very different thing from God actually 
putting forth his creative energy upon him, 
and actually shining upon his heart, and giv- 
ing him that light and that knowledge which 
are expressed in the passage here alluded to ? 
Again, by the very same exercise wherewith he 
renders the sentence of an old author into his 
own language, and perceives the meaning of 
that sentence, will he annex a meaning to the 
following sentence of the Bible — " the natural 
man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of 
God, for they are foolishness unto him ; neither 
can he know them, because they are spiritually 
discerned." By the mere dint of that shrewd- 
ness and sagacity with which nature has en- 
dowed him, he will perceive a meaning here 
which you will readily acknowledge could not 
be perceived by a man in a state of idiotism. 
In the case of the idiot, there is a complete 
barrier against his ever acquiring that con- 
ception of the meaning of this passage, which 
is quite competent to a man of a strong and 
accomplished understanding. For the sake 
of illustration, we may conceive this poor out- 

3 



SERMON I. 



cast from the common light of humanity, in 
some unaccountable fit of attention, listening 
to the sound of these words, and making 
some strenuous but abortive attempts to arrive 
at the same comprehension of them with a man 
whose reason is entire. But he cannot shake 
off the fetters which the hand of nature has 
laid upon his understanding; and he goes back 
again to the dimness and delirium of his un- 
happy situation ; and his mind locks itself up in 
the prison-hold of its Confined and darkened fa- 
culties ; and if, in his mysterious state of exist- 
ence, he formed any conception whatever of 
the words now uttered in your hearing, we may 
rest assured that it stands distinguished by a 
wide and impassable chasm, from the concep- 
tion of him, who has all the common powers 
and perceptions of the species. 

Now, we would ask what kind of conception 
is that which a man of entire faculties may form? 
Only grant us the undeniable truth, that he may 
understand how he cannot discern the things G f 
the Spirit, unless the Spirit reveal them to him ; 
and yet with this understanding, he may not 
be one of those in behalf of whom the Spirit 
hath actually interposed with his peculiar office 
of revelation ; and then you bring into view 
another barrier, no less insurmountable than 
that which fixes an immutable distinction be- 
tween the conceptions of an idiot and of a man 
of sense, — even that wonderful barrier which 



SERMON I. 



19 



separates the natural from the spiritual man. 
You can conceive him struggling with every 
power which nature has given him to work 
his way through this barrier. You can con- 
ceive him vainly attempting, by some energies 
of his own, to force an entrance into that field 
of light where every object of faith has the 
bright colouring of reality thrown over it, — 
where he can command a clear view of the 
things of eternity, — where spiritual truth comes 
home with effect upon his every feeling and his 
every conviction, — where he can expatiate at 
freedom over a scene of manifestation, which 
the world knoweth not, — and breathe such a 
peace, and such a joy, and such a holiness, 
and such a superiority to time, and such a de- 
votedness of all his affections to the things 
which are above, as no man of the highest na- 
tural wisdom can ever reach, with all his atten- 
tion to the Bible, and all the efforts of his 
sagacity, however painful, to unravel, and to 
compare, and to comprehend its passages. 
And it is indeed a deeply interesting object to 
see a man of powerful understanding thus visit- 
ted withan earnest desire after the light of the 
gospel, and toiling at the entrance with all 
the energies which belong to him, — pressing 
into the service all the resources of argument 
and philosophy, — mustering, to the high enter- 
prise, his attention, and his conception, and his 
reason, and his imagination, and the whole 



20 



SERMON I. 



host of his other faculties, on which science has 
conferred her imposing names, and laid before 
us in such a pompous catalogue, as might tempt 
us to believe, that man, by one mighty grasp 
of his creative mind, can make all truth his own, 
and range at pleasure over the wide variety 
of her dominions. How natural to think that 
the same powers and habits of investigation 
which carried him to so respectable a height in 
the natural sciences will enable him to clear his 
way through all the darknesses of theology. It is 
well that he is seeking, — for if he persevere 
and be in earnest, he will obtain an interest 
in the promise, and will at length find : — but 
not till he find, in the progress of those in- 
quiries on which he entered with so much 
alacrity, and prosecuted with so much confi- 
dence, that there is a barrier between him and 
the spiritual discernment of his Bible, which 
all the powers of philosophy cannot scale, — 
not till he find, that he must cast down his 
lofty imaginations, and put the pride of all his 
powers and all his pretensions away from him, 
—not till he find, that divested of those fancies 
which deluded his heart into a feeling of its 
own sufficiency, he must become like a little 
child, or one of those babes to whom God re- 
veals the things which he hides from the wise 
and from the prudent,— not till he find, that 
the attitude of self dependence must be bro- 
ken down, and he be brought to acknowledge 



SERMON I. 



21 



that the light he is aspiring after, is not cre- 
ated by himself, but must be made to shine 
upon him at the pleasure of another, — not in 
short, till humbled by the mortifying experience 
that many a simple cottager who reads his 
Bible and loves his Saviour has got before him. 
he puts himself on a level with the most 
illiterate of them all, and prays that light and 
truth may beam on his darkened understand- 
ing from the sanctuary of God. 

We read of the letter, and we read also of 
the spirit, of the New Testament. It would re- 
quire a volume, rather than a single paragraph 
of a single sermon, to draw the line between 
the one and the other. But you will readily ac- 
knowledge that there are many things of this 
book which a man, though untaught by the Spi- 
rit of God, may be made to know. One of the 
simplest instances is, he may learn the number of 
chapters in every book, and the number of 
verses in every chapter. Butis this all? No,— for 
by the natural exercise of his memory he may 
be able to master all its historical information. 
And is this all ? No, — for by the natural exer- 
cise of his judgment he may compare scripture 
with scripture,-— he may learn what its doctrines 
are,— he may demonstrate the orthodoxy of every 
one article in our national confession, — he may 
rank among the ablest and most judicious of 
the commentators, — he may read, and with 
understanding too, many a ponderous volume, 



22 



SERMON I. 



-—he may store himself with the learning of 
many generations, — he may be familiar with all 
the systems, and have mingled with all the con- 
troversies,— and yet, with a mind supporting as 
it does the burden of the erudition of whole li- 
braries, he may have gotten to himself no other 
wisdom than the wisdom of the letter of the 
New Testament. The man's creed, with all its 
arranged and its well weighed articles, may be 
no better than the dry bones in the vision of 
Ezekiel, put together into a skeleton, and fast- 
ened with sinews, and covered with flesh and 
skin, and exhibiting to the eye of the spectators, 
the aspect, and the lineaments of a man, but 
without breath, and remaining so, till the Spirit 
of God breathed into it, and it lived. And k 
is in truth a sight of wonder, to behold a man 
who has carried his knowledge of Scripture as 
far as the wisdom of man can carry it, — to see 
him blest with all the light which nature can 
give,butlabouring under all the darkness which 
no power of nature can dispel, — to see this man 
of many accomplishments, who can bring his 
every power of demonstration to bear upon 
the Bible, carrying in his bosom a heart un- 
cheered by any one of its consolations, unmov- 
ed by the influence of any one of its truths, un- 
shaken out of any one attachment to the world, 
and an utter stranger to those high resolves, 
and the power of those great and animating 
prospects, which shed a glory over the daily 



SERMON 1. 



23 



walk of a believer, and give to every one of 
his doings the high character of a candidate 
for eternity. 

We are quite aware of the doubts which this 
is calculated to excite in the mind of the hearer, 
— nor is it possible within the compass of an 
hour to stop and satisfy them all; or to 
come to a timely conclusion, without leaving 
a number of unresolved questions behind us. 
There is one, however, which we cannot pass 
without observation. Does not this doctrine 
of a revelation of the Spirit, it may be asked, 
additional to the revelation of the word, open a 
door to the most unbridled variety ? May it not 
give a sanction to any conceptions of any vision- 
ary pretenders, and clothe in all the authority of 
inspiration, a set of doctrines not to be found with- 
in the compass of the written record? Doesitnot 
set aside the usefulness of the Bible, and break in 
upon the unity and consistency of revealed truth, 
by letting loose upon the world a succession 
of fancies, as endless and as variable as are the 
caprices of the human imagination? All very true, 
did we ever pretend that the office of the Spi- 
rit was to reveal any thing additional to the in- 
formation, whether in the way of doctrine or 
of duty, which the Bible sets before us. But 
his office, as defined by the Bible itself, is not 
to make known to us any truths which are not 
contained in the Bible ; but to make clear to 
our understandings the. truths which are con- 



24 



SERMON I. 



J 



tained in it. He opens our understandings 
to understand the Scriptures. The word of 
God is called the sword of the Spirit. It is the 
instrument by which the Spirit worketh. He does 
not tell us any thing that is out of the record ; 
hut all that is within it he sends home, with 
clearness and effect, upon the mind. He does 
not make us wise above that which is written ; 
but he makes us wise, up to that which is written. 
When a telescope is directed to some distant 
landscape, it enables us to see what we could 
not otherwise have seen ; but does it not enable 
us to see any thing which has not a real ex- 
istence in the prospect before us. It does not 
present to the eye any delusive imagery,— nei- 
ther is that a fanciful and fictitious scene which 
it throws open to our contemplation. The na- 
tural eye saw nothing but blue land stretching 
along the distant horizon. By the aid of the 
glass, there bursts upon it a charming variety 
of fields, and woods, and spires, and villages. 
Yet who would say that the glass added one 
feature to this assemblage ? It discovers no- 
thing to us which is not there ; nor, out of thai 
portion of the book of nature which we are em- 
ployed in contemplating, does it bring into view 
a single character which is not really and pre- 
viously inscribed upon it. And so of the Spirit. 
He does not add a single truth, or a single cha- 
racter, to the book of revelation. He enables 
the spiritual man to see what the natural man 



SERMON I. 



25 



cannot see ; but the spectacle which he lays 
open is uniform and immutable. It is the word 
of God, which is ever the same ; — and he, whom 
the Spirit of God has enabled to look to the Bi- 
ble with a clear and affecting discernment, sees 
no phantom passing before him; but, amid all 
the visionary extravagance with which he is 
charged, can, for every one article of his faith, 
and every one duty of his practice, make his tri- 
umphant appeal to the law and to the testimony. 

We trust that this may be made clear by one 
example. We have not to travel out of the re- 
cord for the purpose of having this truth made 
known to us, — that God is every where present. 
It meets the observation of the natural man in 
his reading of the Bible ; and he understands, 
or thinks he understands, the terms in which it 
is delivered ; and he can speak of it with con- 
sistency ; and he ranks it with the other attri- 
butes of God ; and he gives it an avowed and a 
formal admission among the articles of his creed; 
and yet, with all this parade of light and of 
knowledge, he, upon the subject of the all-see- 
ing and the ever-present Deity, labours under 
all the obstinacy of an habitual blindness. Car- 
ry him abroad, and you will find that the light 
which beams upon his senses, from the objects 
of sight, completely overpowers that light 
which ought to beam upon his spirit, from this 
object of faith. He may occasionally think of 
it as he does of other things ; but for every one 
4 



2G 



SERMON L 



practical purpose the thought abandons him, so 
soon as he goes into the next company, or takes 
a part in the next worldly concern, which, in 
the course of his business comes round to him. 
It completely disappears as an element of con- 
duct, and he talks, and thinks, and reasons, just 
as he would have done, had his mind, in refer- 
ence to God, been in a state of entire darkness. 
If any thing like a right conception of the mat- 
ter ever exist in his heart, the din and the 
day -light of the world drive it all away from 
him. Now, to rectify this case, it is surely not 
necessary, that the Spirit add any thing to the 
truth of God's omnipresence, as it is put down 
in the written record. It will be enough, that 
he gives to the mind upon which he operates, a 
steady and enduring impression of this truth. 
Now, this is one part of his office, and accord- 
ingly it is said of the unction of the Spirit, that 
it is an unction which remaineth. Neither is 
it necessary that the light, which he communi- 
cates, should consist in any vision which he 
gives to the eye, or in any bright impression 
upon the fancy, of any one thing not to be 
found within the pages of the Bible. It will 
be enough-if he give a clear and vigorous 
apprehension of the truth, just as it is writ- 
ten, to the understanding. Though the Spirit 
should do no more than give vivacity and effect 
to the truth of the constancy of God's presence, 
just as it stands in the written record — this will 



SERMON 1. 



27 



be quite enough to make the man who is under 
its influence carry an habitual sense of God 
about with him, think of him in the shop and in 
the market-place, walk with him all the day 
long, and feel the same moral restraint upon 
his doings, as if some visible superior, whose 
virtues he revered, and whose approbation he 
longed after, haunted his every footstep, and 
kept an attentive eye fastened upon the whole 
course of his history. The natural man may 
have sense, and he may have sagacity, and a 
readiness withal to admit the constancy of 
God's presence, as an undeniable doctrine of 
the Bible. But to the power of this truth he 
is dead ; and it is only to the power of this 
world's interests and pleasures that he is alive. 
The spiritual man is the reverse of all this, and 
that without carrying his conceptions a single 
hair breadth beyond the communications of the 
written message. He makes no pretensions to 
wisdom by one jot or one tittle beyond the tes- 
timony of Scripture, and yet, after ail, he 
lives under a revelation to which the other is a 
stranger. It does not v,arry him by a single 
footstep without the field of the written revela- 
tion, but it throws a radiance over every object 
within it. It furnishes him with a constant 
light which enables him to withstand the do- 
mineering influence of sight and of sense. He 
dies unto the world, he lives unto God, — and 
the reason is, that there rests upon him a pe- 



28 



SFRMON I 



culiar manifestation, bj which the truth is made 
visible to the eye of his mind, and a peculiar 
energy, by which it comes home upon his con- 
science. And if you come to inquire into the 
cause of this speciality, it is the language of the 
Bible, confirmed, as we believe it to be, by the 
soundest experience, that every power which 
nature has conferred upon man, exalted to its 
highest measure, and called forth to its most 
strenuous exercise, is not able to accomplish it, 
— that it is due to a power above nature, and 
beyond it ; that it is due to what the Apostle 
calls the demonstration of the Spirit, — a de- 
monstration withheld from the self-sufficient 
exertions of man, and given to his believing 
prayers. 

And here we are reminded of an instructive 
passage in the life of one of our earliest and 
most eminent reformers. When the light of 
divine truth broke in upon his heart, it was so 
new and so delightful to one formerly darkened 
by the errors of popery, — he saw such a power 
and such an evidence along with it, — he was so 
ravished by its beauties, and so carried along^ 
by its resistless arguments, that he felt as if he 
had nothing to do, but to brandish those mighty 
weapons, that he might gain all hearts and car- 
ry every thing before him. But he did not 
calculate on the stubborn resistance of corrupt 
human nature, to him and to his reasonings. 
He preached 1 , and he argued, and he put forth 



SERMON I. 



29 



all his powers of eloquence amongst them. But 
mortified that so many hearts remained har- 
dened, that so many hearers resisted him, that 
the doors of so many hearts were kept shut in 
spite of all his loud and repeated warnings, that 
so many souls remained unsubdued, and dead 
in trespasses and sins, he was heard to ex- 
claim, that old Adam was too strong for young 
Melancthon. 

There is the malignity of the fall which ad- 
heres to us. There is a power of corruption 
and of blindness along with it, which it is be- 
yond the compass of human means to over- 
throw. There is a dark and settled depravity 
in the human character, which maintains its 
gloomy and obstinate resistance to all our warn- 
ings and all our arguments. There is a spirit 
working in the children of disobedience which 
no power of human eloquence can lay. There 
is a covering of thick darkness upon the face of 
all people, a mighty influence abroad upon the 
world, with which the Prince of the power of the 
air keeps his thousands and his tens of thousands 
under him. The minister who enters into this 
field of conflict may have zeal, and talents, and 
eloquence. His heart may be smitten with the 
love of the truth, and his mind be fully fraught 
with its arguments. Thus armed, he may come 
forth among his people, flushed with the mighty 
enterprise of turning souls from the dominion 
of Satan unto God. In all the hope of victory 



30 



SERMON I. 



he may discharge the weapons of his warfare 
among them. Week after week, he may reason 
with them out of the Scriptures. Sabbath after 
Sabbath, he may declaim, he may demonstrate, 
he may put forth every expedient, he may at 
one time set in array before them the terrors 
of the law, at another he may try to win them 
by the free offer of the Gospel ; and, in the 
proud confidence of success, he may think that 
nothing can withstand him, and that the heart 
of every hearer must give way before the ar- 
dour of his zeal and the power of his invin- 
cible arguments. Yes ; they may admire him, 
and they may follow him, but the question we 
have to ask is, will they be converted by him ? 
They may even go so far as to allow that it is 
all very true he says. He may be their fa- 
vourite preacher, and when he opens his ex- 
hortations upon them, there may be a deep and 
a solemn attention in every countenance. But 
how is the heart coming on all the while ? 
How do these people live, and what evidence 
are they giving of being born again under the 
power of his ministry? It is not enough to be 
told of those momentary convictions which 
flash from the pulpit, and carry a thrilling in- 
fluence along with them through the hearts of 
listening admirers. Have these hearers of the 
word, become the doers of the word ? Have 
they sunk down into the character of humble, 
and sanctified, and penitent, and pains-taking 



SERMON I. 



31 



Christians ? Where, where, is the fruit ? And 
while the preaching of Christ is all their joy, 
has the will of Christ become all their direc- 
tion ? Alas, he may look around him, and at 
the end of the year, after all the tumults of a 
sounding popularity, he may find the great bulk 
of them just where they were, — as listless and 
unconcerned about the things of eternity, — as 
obstinately alienated from God, — as firmly de- 
voted to selfish and transitory interests, — as 
exclusively set upon the farm, and the money, 
and the merchandise, — and, with the covering 
of many external decencies, to make them as 
fair and plausible as their neighbours around 
them, proving by a heart given, with the whole 
tide of its affections, to the vanities of the world, 
that they have their full share of the wickedness 
which abounds in it. After all his sermons, 
and all his loud and passionate addresses, he 
finds that the power of darkness still keeps its 
ground among them. He is grieved to learn 
that all he has said, has had no more effect, 
than the foolish and the feeble lispings of 
infancy. He is overwhelmed by a sense of his 
own helplessness, and the lesson is a wholesome 
one. It makes him feel that the sufficiency is 
not in him, but in God ; it makes him under- 
stand that another power must be brought to 
bear upon the mass of resistance which is be- 
fore him ; and let the man of confident and as- 
piring genius, who thought he was to assail the 



32 SERMON L 

dark seats of human corruption, and to carry 
them by storm, let him be reduced in morti- 
fied and dependent humbleness to the expe- 
dient of the Apostle, let him crave the inter- 
cessions of his people, and throw himself upon 
their prayers. 

Let us now bring the whole matter to a prac- 
tical conclusion. For the acquirement of a 
saving and spiritual knowledge of the gospel, 
you are, on the one hand, to put forth all your 
ordinary powers, in the very same way that you 
do for the acquirement of knowledge in any of 
the ordinary branches of human learning. But 
in the act of doing so, you, on the other hand, 
are to proceed on a profound impression of the 
utter fruitlessness of all your endeavours, unless 
God meet them by the manifestations of his 
Spirit. In other words, you are to read your 
Bible, and to bring your faculties of attention, 
and understanding, and memory, to the exercise 
just as strenuously as if these and these alone 
could conduct you to the light after which you 
are aspiring. But you are at the same time to 
pray as earnestly for this object, as if God ac- 
complished it without your exertions at all, in- 
stead of accomplishing it in the way he actually 
does, by your exertions. It is when your eyes 
are turned toward the book of God's testimony, 
and not when your eyes are turned away from 
it, that he fulfils upon you the petition of the 
Psalmist, — "Lord, do thou open mine eyes, that 



SERMON I 



33 



i may behold the wondrous things contained 
* in thy law." You are not to exercise your fa- 
culties in searching after truth without prayer, 
else God will withhold from you his illuminating 
influences. And you are not to pray for truth, 
without exercising your faculties, else God will 
reject your prayers, as the mockery of a hypo- 
crite. But you are to do both, and this is in 
harmony with the whole style of a Christian's 
obedience, who is as strenuous in doing as if 
his doings were to accomplish all, and as fer- 
vent in prayer as if without the inspiring ener- 
gy of God, all his doings were vanity and fee- 
bleness. And the great Apostle may be quoted 
as the best example of this observation. 

There never existed a man more active than 
Paul, in the work of the Christian ministry. 
How great the weight and the variety of his la- 
bours! What preaching, what travelling, what 
writing of letters, what daily struggling with 
difficulties, what constant exercise of thought 
in watching over the Churches, what a world of 
perplexity in his dealings with men, and in the 
hard dealings of men with him ; and were they 
friends, or were they enemies, how his mind 
behoved to be ever on the alert, in counselling 
the one and in warding off the hostility of the 
other. Look to all that is visible in the life of 
this Apostle, and you see nothing but bustle, 
and enterprise, and variety. You see a man 
intent on the furtherance of some great object, 

5 



34 



SERMON I. 



and in the prosecution of it, as ever diligent, 
and as ever doing, as if the whole burden of it 
lay upon himself, or as if it were reserved for 
the strength of his solitary arm to accomplish 
it. To this object he consecrated every mo- 
ment of his time, and even when he set him 
down to the work of a tent-maker, for the sake 
of vindicating the purity of his intentions, and 
holding forth an example of honest independ- 
ence to the poorer brethren ; even here, you 
just see another display of the one principle 
which possessed his whole heart, and gave 
such a character of wondrous activity to all the 
days of his earthly pilgrimage- There are 
some, who are so far misled by a kind of per- 
verse theology which they have adopted, as to 
hesitate about the lawfulness of being diligent 
and doing in the use of means. While they are 
slumbering over their speculation, and proving 
how honestly they put faith in it by doing no- 
thing, let us be guided by the example of the 
pains-taking and industrious Paul, and remem- 
ber, that never since the days of this Apostle, 
who calls upon us to be the followers of him, 
even as he was of Christ, — never were the 
labours of human exertion more faithfully ren- 
dered, — never were the workings of a human 
instrument put forth with greater energy. 

But it forms a still more striking part of the 
example of Paul, that while he did as much to- 



SERMON I. 



35 



ward the extension of the Christian faith, as if 
the whole success of the cause depended upon 
his doing,- — he prayed as much, and as fervent- 
ly, for this object, as if all his doings were of 
no consequence. A fine testimony to the supre- 
macy of God. from the man. who, in labours 
was more abundant than any who ever came 
after him, that he counted all as nothing, unless 
God would interfere to put his blessing upon 
all. and to give his efficiency to all ! He who 
looked so busy, and whose hand was so con- 
stantly engaged, in the work that was before 
him, looked for all his success to that help 
which cometh from the sanctuary of God. 
There was his eye directed. Thence alone did 
he expect a blessing upon his endeavours. He 
wrought, and that with diligence too, because 
God bade him : but he also prayed, and that 
with equal diligence, because God had reveal- 
ed to him. that plant as he may, and water as he 
may. God alone giveth the increase. He did 
homage to the will of God. by the labours of 
the ever-working minister, — and he did hom- 
age to the power of God. by the devotions of 
the ever-praying minister. He did not say, 
what signifies my working, for God alone can 
work with effect ? This is very true, but God 
chooses to work by instruments, — and Paul, 
by the question. M Lord, what wilt thou have 
me to do P expressed his readiness to be an 
instrument in his hand. Neither did he say. 



3t> 



SERMON 1. 



what signifies my praying, for 1 have got a work 
here to do, and it is enough that I be diligent 
in the performance of it. No — For the power 
of God must be acknowledged, and a sense of 
his power must mingle with all our perform- 
ances ; and therefore it is that the Apostle kept 
both working and praying, and with him they 
formed twg distinct emanations of the same 
principle ; and while there are many who make 
these Christian graces to neutralize each other, 
the judicious and the clear-sighted Paul, who 
had received the spirit of a sound mind, could 
give his unembarrassed vigour to both these 
exercises, and combine, in his own example, 
the utmost diligence in doing, with the utmost 
dependence on him who can alone give to that 
doing all its fruit and all its efficacy. 

The union of these two graces has at times 
been finely exemplified in the later, and unin- 
spired ages of the Christian church; and the 
case of the missionary Elliot is the first, and 
the most impressive that occurs to us. His 
labours, like those of the great Apostle, were 
directed to the extension of the vineyard of 
Christ, — and he was among the very first who 
put forth his hand to the breaking up of the 
American wilderness. For this purpose did 
he set himself down to the acquirement of a 
harsh and barbarous language; and he became 
qualified to confer with savages ; and he grap- 
pled for years with their untractable humours : 



SERMON I. 



37 



and he collected these wanderers into villages ; 
and while other reformers have ennohled their 
names by the formation of a new set of public 
laws, did he take upon him the far more ardu- 
ous task of creating for his untamed Indians, a 
new set of domestic habits ; and such was thg* 
power of his influence that he carried his chins' 
tianizing system into the very bosom of their 
families ; and he spread art, and learning, and 
civilization amongst them; and to his visible 
labours among his people he added the labours 
of the closet ; and he translated the whole Bi- 
ble into their tongue ; and he set up a regular 
provision for the education of their children ; 
and lest the spectator who saw his fourteen 
towns risen as by enchantment in the desert, 
and peopled by the rudest of its tribes, should 
ask in vain for the mighty power by which such 
wondrous things had been brought to pass, — 
this venerable priest left his testimony behind 
him ; and neither overlooking the agency of 
God, nor the agency of man as the instrument 
of God, he tells us in one memorable sentence 
written by himself at the end of his Indian 
grammar, that " prayers and pains throuai* 
faith in Christ Jesus can do any thing." 

The last inference we shall draw from this 
topic, is the duty and importance of prayer 
among Christians, for the success of the minis- 
try of the Gospel Paul had a high sense of the 
eixicacy of prayer. Not according to that re* 



38 



SERMON I. 



fined view of it, which, making all its influence 
to consist in its improving and moralizing effect 
upon the mind, fritters down to nothing the 
plain import and significancy of this ordinance. 
With him it was a matter of asking and of re- 

^arthly benefit which is at the giving of aiM^/fet. 

Reiving. And just as when in pursuit of some 
t<her, you think yourselves surer of your object 
the more you multiply the number of askers 
and the number of applications — in this very 
way did he, if we may be allowed the expression, 
contrive to strengthen and extend his interest 
in the court of heaven. He craved the inter- 
cessions of his people. There were many be- 
lievers formed under his ministry, and each of 
these could bring the prayer of faith to bear 
upon the counsels of God, and bring down a 
larger portion of strength and of fitness to rest 
on the Apostle for making more believers. It 
was a kind of creative or accumulating process. 
After he had travailed in birth with his new 
converts till Christ was formed in them — this 
was the use he put them to. It is an expedient 
which harmonizes with the methods of Provi- 
dence and the will of God, who orders inter- 
cessions, and on the very principle too, that he 
willeth all men to be saved, and to come to the 
knowledge of the truth. The intercession of 
Christians, who are already formed, is the lea- 
ven which is to leaven the whole earth with 
Christianity. It is one of the destined instru- 



/ 



SERMON I. 39 

ments in the hand of God for hastening the 
glory of the latter days. Take the world at 
large, and the doctrine of intercession, as an 
engine of mighty power, is derided as one of 
the reveries of fanaticism. This is a subject on 
which the men of the world are in a deep slum- 
ber ; but there are watchmen who never hold 
their peace day nor night, and to them God 
addresses these remarkable words, "Ye that 
make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, 
and give him no rest, till he establish, and till 
he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth." 



SERMON II 



THE MY&TEPdOUS ASPECT OF THE GOSPEL TO THE 
MEN OP THE WORLD. 



ESEEIEL XX. 49. 

li Then said I, Ah, Lord God ! they say of me, Doth he 
not speak parables ?" 

In parables, the lesson that is meant to be con- 
veyed is to ft certain degree shaded in obscu- 
rity. They are associated by the Psalmist with 
dark sayings — " I will open my mouth in a pa- 
rable, I will utter dark sayings of old." We 
read in the New Testament of a parable leav- 
ing all the effect of an unexplained mystery 
upon the understanding of the general au- 
dience to which it was addressed ; and the ex- 
planation of the parable given to a special few 
was to them the clearing up of a mystery. " It 
is given unto you to know the mysteries of the 
kingdom of heaven; but to them it is not 
given !" 

The prophets of old were often commis- 
sioned to address their countrymen under the 
guise of symbolical language* This threw a 



SERMON II. 



11 



veil over the meaning of their communications ; 
and though it was a veil of such transparency 
as could be seen through by those who looked 
earnestly and attentively, and with a humble 
desire to be taught in the will of God, — yet 
there was dimness enough to intercept all the 
moral, and all the significancy, from the minds 
of those who wanted principle to be in earnest ; 
or who wanted patience for the exercise of 
attention ; or who wanted such a concern about 
God, as either to care very much for his will, 
or to feel that any thing which respected him 
was worth the trouble of a very serious inves- 
tigation. 

They who wanted this concern and this prin- 
ciple, from them was taken away even that 
which they had. God at length ceased from 
his messages, and the Spirit of God ceased 
from his warnings. They who had the prepara- 
tion of all this docility, to them more was given. 
Their honest desire after knowledge was re- 
warded by the acquirement of it. They conti- 
nued to look, and to inquire, and at length they 
were illuminated; and thus was fulfilled the 
saying of the Saviour, that " whosoever hath, 
to him shall be given, and he shall have more 
abundantly, — but whosoever hath not, from 
him shall be taken away even that he hath." 

It is not difficult to conceive how the obscure 
intimations of Ezekiel would be taken by the 
careless and ungodly men of his generation. 

6 



42 



SERMON II. 



It is likely that even from the naked denuncia- 
tions of vengeance they would have turned 
contemptuously away. And it is still more 
likely that they would refuse the impression of 
them, when offered to their notice, under a fig- 
urative disguise. It is not at all to be supposed 
that they would put forth any activity of 
mind in quest of that which they nauseated, and 
of that which, if ever they had found, they 
would have found to be utterly revolting to all 
their habits of impiety. They are the very last 
men we should expect to meet with at the work 
of a pains-taking search after the interpreta- 
tion of these parables. Nay, they would gladly 
fasten upon the obscurity of them both as a 
circumstance of reproach against the prophet, 
and as an apology for their own indifference. 
And thus it is, that to be a teacher of parables 
might at length become a scoff and a by-word ; 
and the prophet seems to have felt the force of 
it as an opprobrious designation, seems to be 
looking forward to the mixture of disdain and 
impatience with which he would be listened 
to, when God charged him with an allegorical 
communication to his countrymen, and he an- 
swered, "Ah, Lord God ! they say of me, Doth 
he not speak parables ?" 

Now the question we have to put is — Is there 
no similar plea of resistance ever preferred 
against the faithful messengers of God in the 
present day ? It is true, that in our time there 



SERMON II. 



43 



is no such thing as a man coming amongst you, 
charged with the utterance of a direct and per- 
sonal inspiration. But it is the business of 
every minister truly to expound the record of 
inspiration ; and is it not very possible that in 
so doing he may be reproached, not for preach- 
ing parabolically, but for preaching mysterious- 
ly ? Have you never heard of a sermon being 
called mystical ; and what shall we think of it, 
if, in point of fact, this imputation falls most 
readily and most abundantly on the sermon 
that is most pervaded by the spirit, and most 
overrun with the phraseology of the New Tes- 
tament ? In that composition there are certain 
terms which recur incessantly, and which would 
therefore appear to represent certain very 
leading and prominent ideas. Now, whether 
are these ideas clearly and promptly suggested 
to your mind, by the utterance of the terms ? 
What are the general character and effect which 
in your eye is imparted to a sermon, when, 
throughout the whole of it, the words of the 
apostolic vocabulary are ever and anon obtrud- 
ed upon your hearing — and the whole stress of 
the argument is made^o lie on such matters as 
sanctification ; and the atonement ; and the 
blood of the everlasting covenant ; and the in- 
dwelling of the Holy Ghost, who takes up his 
habitation in the soul of the believer; and sal- 
vation by grace; and the spirit of adoption 
poured forth on the heart, and filling it with 



I 



44 SERMON II. 

all the peace and joy of a confident reconcilia- 
tion ; and the exercise of fellowship with the 
Father, and the Son ; and the process of grow- 
ing up unto Christ ; and the habit of receiving 
out of his fulness, and of beholding with open 
face his glory, so as to be changed into the 
same image, from glory to glory, even as by 
the Spirit of the Lord. We are not at present 
asking, if you feel the disgust with which un- 
subdued- nature ever listens to these represen- 
tations ; or in what degree they are offensive 
to your taste, and painfully uncongenial with 
the whole style and habit of your literature. 
But we ask, if such terms and such phrases as 
have now been specified, do not spread before 
the eye of your mind an aspect of exceeding 
dimness over the preacher's demonstration ? 
Does he not appear to you as if he wrapped 
himself up in the obscurity of a technical lan- 
guage, which you are utterly at a loss to com- 
prehend ? When the sermon in question is put 
by the side of some lesson of obvious morality, 
or some exposition of those principles which 
are recognised and acted upon in ordinary life, 
does it not look to you as if it was shrouded 
from common observation altogether ; and that 
ere you could be initiated into the mystery of 
such language and of such doctrine, you would 
need to describe a mighty and still untrodden 
interval from all your present habits of con- 
ception? And yet, what if it be indeed the 



SERMON II. 



45 



very language and the very doctrine of the 
New Testament? — if all the jargon that is 
charged on the interpretation of the word be 
the actual word itself? — and if the preacher be 
faithfully conveying the message of the Bible, 
at the very time that the hearer is shielding 
himself from the impression of it, by the saying, 
that he preacheth mysteries ? 

But to keep the two parties at a still more 
hopeless distance from each other, — the mes- 
sage of such a preacher, incomprehensible as 
many of its terms and many of its particulars 
may be, evidently bears a something upon it 
that is fitted to alarm the fears, and utterly to 
thwart the strongest tendencies of nature. Let 
him be just a faithful expounder of the Gospel 
of Jesus Christ, and let the blindness of the 
natural man be what it may, still there is 
scarcely a hearer who can fail to perceive, 
that, anterior to the reception of this Gospel, 
the preacher looks upon him as the enemy of 
God, — and strongly points at such a contro- 
versy between him and his Maker, as can only 
be made up through an appointed Mediator— 
and requires of him such a faith as will trans- 
form his character, and as will shift the whole 
currency of His affections and desires — and af- 
firms the necessity of such a regeneration, as 
that all old things shall be done away, and all 
things shall become new ; — and lets him know, 
that to be a Christian indeed he must die unto 



46 SERMON H. 

sense, he must be crucified unto the world, 
and, renouncing its charms and its predilec- 
tions, must learn to have his conversation in 
heaven, and to choose God as the strength of 
his heart and his portion for evermore. All 
this flashes plainly and significantly enough, 
through that veil of mysticism which appears 
to overspread the general doctrine of the 
preacher ; and imparts a forbidding character 
to it in the eyes of those to whom we are al- 
luding ; and they will be glad of any pretence 
to shun a painful and a revolting contemplation ; 
and they will complain of him on the very 
ground on which the Jews of old complained 
of Ezekiel, as a dealer in parables — and while 
much of their antipathy is founded upon his 
being so strict and so spiritual, and so unac- 
commodating to the general tone of society, 
one of the charges which will be most frequently 
and most loudly preferred against him, is that 
he is so very mysterious. 

In the prosecution of the following discourse, 
we shall endeavour in the first place to state 
shortly the ground on which the religion of 
the New Testament looks so mysterious a 
thing to the men of the world, and then con- 
clude with a short practical remonstrance upon 
this subject. 

I. There are certain experiences of human 
life so oft repeated, and so familiar to all 



SERMON II. 



47 



our recollections, that when we perceive, or 
think we perceive, an analogy between them 
and the matters of religion, then religion does 
not appear to us to be mysterious. There is 
not a more familiar exhibition in society than 
that of a servant who performs his allotted 
work, and who obtains his stipulated reward 
— and we are all servants, and one is our mas- 
ter, even God. There is nothing more com- 
mon than that a son should acquit himself to 
the satisfaction of his parents, — and we are all 
the children of an universal parent, whom it 
is our part to please in all things. Even when 
that son falls under displeasure, and is either 
visited with compunction or made to receive 
the chastisement of his disobedience, there is 
nothing more common than to witness the re- 
len tings of an earthly father, and the readi- 
ness with which forgiveness is awarded on the 
repentance and sorrow of the offender, — and 
we, in like manner, liable to err from the pure 
law of heaven, have surely a kind and indul- 
gent Father to deal with. And, lastly, there 
is nothing more common than that the loyalty 
of a zealous and patriotic subject should be 
rewarded by the patronage, or, at least, by the 
protection, of the civil magistrate, — and that 
an act of transgression against the laws should 
be visited by an act of vengeance on the part 
of him who is a terror to evil doers, while a 
praise to such as do well. And thus it is too ? 



48 



SERMON n. 



that we are under a lawgiver in heaven who is 
able both to save and to destroy. Now so long 
as the work of religious instruction can be up- 
held by such analogies as these,— so long as 
the relations of civil or of domestic society can 
be employed to illustrate the relation between 
God and the creatures whom he has formed,— 
so long as the recollections of daily experience 
can thus be applied to the method of the divine 
administration,-— a vein of perspicuity will ap- 
pear to run through the clear and rational ex- 
position of him who has put all the mist and all 
the technicals of an obscure theology away 
from him. All his lessons will run in an easy 
and direct train. Nor do we see how it is pos- 
sible to be bewildered amongst such explana- 
tions, as are suggested by the most ordinary 
doings and concerns of human society ; — and 
did the preacher only confine himself to such 
doctrine, as that God rewards the upright, and 
punishes the rebellious, and upon the impulse 
of that compassion which belongs to him, takes 
again the penitent into acceptance, and in the 
great day of remuneration, will give unto every 
man according to his works, — did he only con- 
fine himself to truths so palpable, and build 
upon it applications so obvious, as just to urge 
us to the performance of duty by, the promised 
reward, and deter us from the infraction of it by 
the severities of the threatened punishment, 
and call us to reformation by affectionately 



SERMON II. 



pleading with us the mercies of God, and warn 
us with all his force and all his fidelity, that 
should we persist in obstinate impenitence we 
shall be cut off from happiness forever, — there 
might be something to terrify, — but there would 
at least be nothing to darken or to perplex us in 
these interpretations,—nothing that would not 
meet common intelligence, and be helped for- 
ward by all the analogies of common observa- 
tion, — and should this therefore prove the 
great burden of the preacher's demonstration, 
we should be the last to reproach him, as a 
dealer in parables, or as a dealer in mysteries. 

To attach us the more to this rational style of 
preaching, we cannot but perceive that it ob- 
tains a kind of experimental countenance from 
the actual distinctions of character which are 
realized in the peopled world around us. Can 
any thing be more evident than that there is a 
line of separation between the sensual and the 
temperate, between the selfish and the disinter- 
ested, between the sordid and the honourable ; 
or if you require a distinction more strictly re- 
ligious, between the profane and the decent 
keeper of all the ordinances ? Do not the for- 
mer do what, in the matter of it, is contrary to 
the law of God, and the latter do what, in the 
matter of it, is agreeable to that law ? Here 
then at once we witness the two grand divi- 
sions of human society, in a state of real and vi- 
sible exemplification — and what more is neces- 
7 



50 



SERMON II. 



sary than just to employ the most direct and 
intelligible motives of conduct, for persuading 
men to withdraw from one of these divisions, 
and pass over to the other of them ? Surely it 
is just as we occupy the higher and the lower 
places in the scale of character, that we shall 
be found on the right and on the left hand of 
the judge on the day of reckoning: And what 
more obvious way than of preparing a people 
for eternity — than just to point our urgency to 
the one object of prevailing upon men to cross 
the line of separation, to cease from the iniqui- 
ties which abound on the one side of it, and to 
put on the reformations which are practised on 
the other side of it ? For this purpose, what 
else is to be done than plainly to tell the whole 
amount of the interest and obligation which 
lies on the side of virtue, and as plainly to tell 
of the ruin and the degradation both of cha- 
racter and of prospect which lie on the side of 
vice, — to press the accomplishments of a good 
life on the one hand, and to denounce the false- 
hoods and the dishonesties, and the profliga- 
cies of a bad life on the other, — in a word, to 
make our hearers the good subjects of God, 
much in the same way, as you would propose 
to make them the good servants of their mas- 
ter, or the good subjects of their government; 
and thus by the simple and direct enforce- 
ments of duty, to shun all the difficulties of a 



SERMON IL 



51 



scholastic theology, and to keep clear of all 
its mysteriousness. 

It is needless to say how much this process 
is reversed by many a teacher of Christianity. 
It is true, that they hold but most prominently 
the need of some great transition— but it is a 
transition most mysteriously different from the 
act of crossing that line of separation, to which 
we have just been adverting. Without refer- 
ring at all in fact to any such line, do they come 
forth from the very outset with one sweeping 
denunciation of worthlessness and guilt, which 
they carry round among all the varieties of 
character, and by which they affirm every in- 
dividual of the human race, to be an undone 
sinner in the sight of God. Instead of bidding 
him look to other sinners less deformed by 
blemishes, and more rich in moral accomplish- 
ments* than himself, and then attempt to re- 
cover Ms distance from the divine favour by the 
imitation of them, they bid him |think of the 
awful amount of debt and of deficiency that 
lies between the lawgiver in heaven, and a 
whole world guilty before him. They speak 
of a depravity so entire, and of an alienation 
from God so deep, and so universal, as posi- 
tively to obliterate that line of separation which 
is supposed to mark off those, who, upon the 
degree of their obedience, are rightful claim- 
ants to the honours of eternity, from those, 
who, upon the degree of their disobedience, 



\ 



52 



SERMON It- 



are the wretched outcasts of condemnation. 
They reduce the men of air casts and of all 
characters, to the same footing of worthless- 
ness in the sight of God ; and speak of the 
evil of the human heart in such terms, as will 
sound to many a mysterious exaggeration, and, 
like the hearers of Ezekiel, will these not be 
able to comprehend the argument of the 
preacher, when he tells them, though in the 
very language of the Bible, that they are the 
heirs of wrath ; that none of them is righteous, 
no not one ; that all flesh have corrupted their 
ways, and have fallen short of the glory of God ; 
that the world at large is a lost and a fallen 
world, and that the natural inheritance of all 
who live in it, is the inheritance of a temporal 
death, and a ruined eternity. 

When the preacher goes on in this, strain, 
those hearers whom the Spirit has not con- 
vinced of sin will be utterly at a loss to under- 
stand him, — nor are we to wonder, if he seem to 
speak to them in a parable, when he speaks of 
the disease, — that all the darkness of a parable 
should still seem to hang over his demonstra- 
tions, when, as a faithful expounder of the re- 
vealed will and counsel of God, he proceeds to 
tell them of the remedy. For God hath not 
only made known the fearful magnitude of his 
reckoning against us, but he has prescribed, 
and with that authority which only belongs to 
him, the way of its settlement ; and he has told 



SERMON II, 



53 



us that all the works and all the efforts of un- 
renewed nature are of no avail, in gaining us 
acceptance, and that he has laid the burden of 
our atonement on him who alone was able to 
bear it ; and he not only invites, but he com- 
mands, and he beseeches us, to enter into 
peace and pardon on the footing of that expia- 
tion which Christ hath made, and of that right- 
eousness which Christ hath wrought out for us ; 
and he further declares, that we have come 
into the world with such a moral constitution, 
as will not merely need to be repaired, but as 
will need to be changed or made over again, 
ere we be meet for the inheritance of the 
saints; and still for this object does he point 
our eyes to the great Mediator who has under- 
taken, not merely for the forgiveness, but who 
has undertaken for the sanctification of all who 
put their trust in him; and he announces that 
out of his fulness there ever come forth sup- 
plies of strength for the new obedience of new 
creatures in Jesus Christ our Lord. Now, it is 
when the preacher is unfolding this scheme of 
salvation, — it is when he is practically applying 
it to the conscience and the conduct of his 
hearers, — it is when the terms of grace, and 
faith, and sanctification, are pressed into fre- 
quent employment for the work of these very 
peculiar explanations, — it is, when instead of 
illustrating his subject by those analogies of 
common life which might have done for men 



54 



SERMON 11 



of an untainted nature, but which will not do 
for the men of this corrupt world, he faithfully 
unfolds that economy of redemption which God 
hath actually set up for the recovery of our de- 
generate species,— it is then, that to a hearer 
still in darkness, the whole argument sounds 
as strangely and as obscurely, as if it were 
conveyed to him in an unknown language, — it is 
then, that the repulsion of his nature to the 
truth as it is in Jesus, finds a willing excuse in 
the utter mysteriousness of its articles, and its 
terms; and gladly does he put away from him 
the unwelcome message, with the remark, that 
he who delivers it, is a speaker of parables, 
and there is no comprehending him. 

It will readily occur as an observation upon 
all that has been delivered, that by the great 
majority of hearers, this imputation of mysteri- 
ousness is never preferred, — that in fact, they 
are most habituated to this style of preaching, 
— and that they recognise the very thing which 
they value most, and are best acquainted with, 
when they hear a sermon replete with the doc- 
trine, and abounding in the terms, and uttered 
in the cadence of orthodoxy. Of this we are 
perfectly aware. The point to carry with the 
great bulk of hearers is, not to conquer their 
disgust at the form of sound words, but to con- 
quer their resistance to the power of them ; to 
alarm them by the consideration, that the in- 
fluence of the lesson is altogether a distinct 



SERMON IL 



55 



matter from the pleasantness of the song, — that 
their ready and delighted acquiescence in the 
preaching of the faith, may consist with a total 
want of obedience to the faith, — and that with 
all the love they bear to the phraseology of the 
gospel, and all their preference for its minis- 
ters, and all their attendance upon its sacra- 
ments, the kingdom of God, however much it 
may have come to them in word, may not at all 
have come to them in power. This is a dis- 
tinct error from the one we have been combat- 
ing, — a weed which grows abundantly in an- 
other quarter of the field altogether, — a per- 
verseness of mind, more deceitful than the 
other, and perhaps still more unmanageable, 
and against which, the faithful minister has to 
set himself amongst that numerous class of pro- 
fessors, who like to hear of the faith, but never 
apply a single practical test to the question, 
Am I in the faith ? who like to hear of regene- 
ration, but never put the question, Am I really 
regenerated? who like to hear that without 
Christ they can do nothing, but may be enabled 
to do all things through him strengthening them 
but never enter into the important personal in- 
quiry, Is he really strengthening me, and am I, 
by my actual victory over the world, and my 
actual progress in the accomplishments of per- 
sonal Christianity, bearing evidence upon my- 
self that I have a real part and interest in these 
things? 



56 



SERMON II. 



There can be no doubt as to the existence 
of such a class, — and under another text, there 
could be no difficulty in finding out a scriptural 
application, by which to reach and to reprove 
them. But the matter suggested by the present 
text is, that if a minister of the present day 
should preach as the Apostles did before him, 
— if the great theme of his ministrations be 
Jesus Christ, and him crucified,— if the doctrine 
of the sermon be a faithful transcript of the doc- 
trine of the New Testament, — there is one 
class, we have every warrant for believing, 
from whom the word will not return unto him 
void,— and there is another class who will be 
the willing hearers, but not the obedient doers 
of the word: But there is still a third class, made 
up of men of cultivated literature, and men of 
polished and respectable society, and men of 
a firm secular intelligence in all the ordinary 
matters of business, who, at the same time, 
possessing no sympathies whatever with the 
true spirit and design of Christianity, are ex- 
ceedingly shut up, in all the avenues both of 
their heart and understanding, against the pe- 
culiar teaching of the gospel. Like the hear- 
ers of Ezekiel, they feel an impression of mys- 
teriousness. There is a certain want of adjust- 
ment between the truth as it is in Jesus, and 
the prevailing style of their conceptions. All 
their views of human life, and all the lessons 
they may have gathered from the school of civil 



SERMON II. 



57 



or classical morality, and all their preferences 
for what they count the clearness and the ra- 
tionality of legal preaching, and all the predi- 
lections they have gotten in its favour, from 
the most familiar analogies in human society, 
— all these, coupled with their utter blindness 
to the magnitude of that guilt which they have 
incurred under the judgment of a spiritual law, 
enter as so many elements of dislike in their 
hearts, towards the whole tone and character 
of the peculiar doctrines of Christianity. And 
they go to envelop the subject in such a shroud 
of mysticism to their eyes, that many of the 
preachers of the gospel are, by them, resisted 
on the same plea with the prophet of old, to 
whom his contemptuous countrymen meant to 
attach the ridicule and the ignominy of a pro- 
verb, when they said,— he is a dealer in para- 
bles. 

We mistake the matter, if we think that the 
offence of the cross has yet ceased from the 
land. We mistake it, if we think that the per- 
secution of contempt, a species of persecution 
more appalling to some minds than even direct 
and personal violence, is not still the appointed 
trial of all who would live godly, and of all 
who would expound zealously and honestly 
the doctrine of Christ Jesus our Lord. We 
utterly mistake it, if we think that Christianity 
is not even to this very hour the same very pe- 
culiar thing that it was in the days of the Apos- 

U 



SERMON II. 



ties,— that it does not as much signalize and 
separate us from a world lying in wickedness, 
—-that the reproach cast upon Paul, that he 
was mad, because he was an intrepid follower 
of Christ, is not still ready to be preferred 
against every faithful teacher, and every con- 
sistent disciple of the faith, — and that, under 
the terms of methodism, and fanaticism, and 
mysticism, there is not ready to be discharged 
upon them from the thousand batteries of a 
hostile and unbelieving world, as abundant a 
shower of invective and contumely as in the 
first ages. 

II. Now, if there be any hearers present who 
feel that we have spoken to them, when we 
spoke of the resistance which is held out 
against peculiar Christianity, on the ground of 
that mysteriousness in which it appears to be 
concealed from all ordinary discernment, — 
we should like to take our leave of them at 
present with two observations. We ask them, 
in the first place, if they have ever, to the satis- 
faction of their own minds, disproved the Bible, 
—and if not, we ask them how they can sit at 
ease, should all the mysteriousness which they 
charge upon Evangelical truth, and by which 
they would attempt to justify their contempt for 
it, shall be found to attach to the very language, 
and to the very doctrine of God's own commu- 
nication ? What if it be indeed the truth of 



SERMON II 



59 



God? What if it be the very language of the 
offended lawgiver? What if they be the only 
overtures of reconciliation, upon the accept- 
ance of which a sinner can come nigh unto 
him ? Now he actually does say that no man 
cometh unto the Father but by the Son, — and 
that his is the only name given under heaven 
whereby men can be saved, — and that he will 
be magnified only in the appointed Mediator, 
— and that Christ is all in all, — and that there 
is no other foundation on which man can lay, 
and that he who believeth on him shall not be 
confounded. He further speaks of our personal 
preparation for heaven — and here, too, may his 
utterance sound mysteriously in your hearing, 
as he tells that without holiness no man can 
see God, — and that we are without strength 
while we are without the Spirit to make us holy 
— and that unless a man be born again he shall 
not enter into the kingdom of God, — and that 
he should wrestle in prayer for the washing of 
regeneration, — and that he should watch for 
the Holy Ghost with all perseverance,- — and 
that he should aspire at being perfect through 
Christ strengthening him, — and that he should, 
under the operation of those great provisions 
which are set up in the New Testament for 
creating us anew unto good works, conform 
himself unto that doctrine of grace by which he 
is brought to deny ungodliness and worldly 
lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly 



60 



SERMON H. 



in the present evil world. We again ask them, 
if all this be offensive to their taste, and utterly 
revolting to their habits and inclinations, and 
if they turn with disgust from the bitterness of 
such an application, and can behold no strength 
to constrain them in any such arguments, and 
no eloquence to admire in them. With what 
discernment truly is your case taken up in this 
very Bible, whose phraseology and whose doc- 
trine are so unpalatable to you, when it tells 
us of the preaching of the cross being foolish- 
ness, — but remember that it savs it v is foolish- 
ness to those who perish ; when it tells of the 
natural man not receiving of the things of the 
Spirit, — but remember that it says, if ye have 
not the Spirit of God, ye are none of his; when 
it tells of the gospel being hid,— but hid ot 
them who are lost : " In whom the God of this 
world hath blinded the minds of those which 
believe not, lest the light of the glorious gos- 
pel of Christ, who is the image of God, should 
shine unto them." 

Secondly, let us assure the men, who at this 
moment bid the stoutest defiance to the mes- 
sage of the gospel, — the men whose natural 
taste appears to offer an invincible barrier 
against the reception of its truths, — the men 
who, upon the plea of mysteriousness, or the 
plea of fanaticism, or the plea of excessive 
and unintelligible peculiarity, are most ready 
to repudiate the whole style and doctrine of 



i 



SERMON IL 



6 * 



the New Testament,— let us assure them that 
the time may yet come, when they shall ren- 
der to this very gospel the most striking of all 
acknowledgments, even by sending to the door 
of its most faithful ministers, and humbly cra- 
ving from them their explanations and their 
prayers. It indeed offers an affecting contrast 
to all the glory of earthly prospects, and to all 
the vigour of confident and rejoicing health, 
and to all the activity and enterprise of busi- 
ness, when the man who made the world his 
theatre, and felt his mountain to stand strong 
on the fleeting foundation of its enjoyments 
and its concerns, — when he comes to be bowed 
down with infirmity, or receives from the trou- 
ble within, the solemn intimation that death 
is now looking to him in good earnest : When 
such a man takes him to the bed of sickness, 
and he knows it to be a sickness unto death, 
— when, under all the weight of breathlessness 
and pain, he listens to the man of God, as he 
points the way that leadeth to eternity, — what, 
I would ask, is the kind of gospel that is most 
fitted to charm the sense of guilt and the anti- 
cipations of vengeance away from him? Sure 
we are, that we never in these affecting circum- 
stances — through which you have all to pass — 
we never saw the man who could maintain a 
stability, and a hope, from the sense of his own 
righteousness ; but who, if leaning on the right- 
eousness of Christ, could mix a peace and an 



SERMON II. 



elevation with his severest agonies. We never 
saw the expiring mortal who could look with 
an undaunted eye on God as his lawgiver; but 
often has all its languor been lighted up with 
joy at the name of Christ as his Saviour. We 
never saw the dying acquaintance, who, upon 
the retrospect of his virtues and of his doings, 
could prop the tranquillity of his spirit on the 
expectation of a legal reward. O no! this is 
not the element which sustains the tranquillity 
of death beds. It is the hope of forgiveness. 
It is a believing sense of the efficacy of the 
atonement. It is the prayer of faith, offered 
up in the name of him who i^ the Captain of all 
our salvation. It is a dependence on that power 
which can alone impart a meetness for the in- 
heritance of the saints, and present the spirit 
holy, and unreproveable, and unblameable, in 
the sight of God. 

Now, what we have to urge is, that if these 
be the topics, which, on the last half hour of 
your life, are the only ones that will possess, in 
your judgment, any value or substantial import- 
ance, why put them away from you now? You 
will recur to them then, and for what? that 
you may get the forgiveness of your sins. But 
there is a something else you must get, ere you 
can obtain an entrance into peace or glory. 
You must get the renovation of that nature, 
which is so deeply tainted at this moment 
with the guilt of ingratitude and forgetfulness 



SERMON II. 



63 



towards God. This must be gone through ere 
you die ; and say if a change so mighty should 
be wantonly postponed to the hour of dying?— 
when all your refusals of the gospel have har- 
dened and darkened the mind against it; when 
a demonstration of the Spirit then, is surely 
not to be counted on, as the return that you 
will experience for resisting all his intimations 
now; when the effects of the alienation of a 
whole life, both in extinguishing the light of 
your conscience, and in riveting your distaste 
for holiness, will be accumulated into such abar- 
rier in the way of your return to G^d, as stamps 
upon death-bed conversions, a grievous unlike- 
lihood, and should give an imperious force to 
the call of " To-day, while it is called to-day, 
harden not your hearts, seeing that now is your 
accepted time, and now is your day of salva- 
tion." 



SERMON III 



THE PREPARATION NECESSARY FOR UNDERSTANDING 
THE MYSTERIES OF THE GOSPEL. 



Matthew xiii. 11, 12. 

He answered and said unto them, Because it is given 
unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of hea- 
ven, but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, 
to him shall be given, and he shall have mo? e abundance ; 
but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away 
even that he hath." 

It is of importance to mark the principle of 
distribution on which it is given to some to know 
the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, and it 
is not given to others. Both may at the outset 
be equally destitute of a clear understanding 
of these mysteries. But the former may have 
what the latter have not. With the former 
there may be a desire for explanation ; with 
the latter there may be no such desire. The 
former may, in the earnest prosecution of this 
desire, be praying earnestly, and reading dili- 
gently, and striving laboriously, to do all that 
they know to be the will of God. With the 



SERMON III 



65 



latter, there may be neither the habit of prayer, 
nor the habit of inquiry, nor the habit of obe= 
dience. To the one class will be given what 
they have not. From the other class what they 
have shall be taken away. We have already 
attempted to excite in the latter class a re- 
spectful attention to the truths of the gospel, 
and shall now confine ourselves chiefly to the 
object of encouraging and directing those who 
feel the mysteriousness of these truths, and long 
for light to arise in the midst of it ; — shall ad- 
dress ourselves to those who have an honest 
anxiety after that truth which is unto salvation, 
but find the way to it beset with many doubts 
and many perplexities, — to those who are im- 
pressed with a general conviction on the side 
of Scripture, but in whose eyes a darkness im- 
penetrable still broods over its pages, — to those 
who are haunted by a sense of the imperious 
necessity of religion, and at the same time can- 
not escape from the impression, that if it is any 
where to be found, it is to be found within the 
records of the Old and New Testament, but 
from whose heart in the reading of these re- 
cords the veil still remains untaken away. 

In the further prosecution of this discourse, 
let us attempt, in the first place, to explain 
what it is that we ought to have, in order to 
attain an understanding of the mysteries of the 
gospel ; and, in the second place, how it is that 
in many cases these mysteries are evolved 

9 



66 



SERMON HI. 



upon the mind in a clear and convincing mani- 
festation. 

1. First, then, we ought to have an honest 
desire after light, and if we have this desire, it 
will not remain unproductive. There is a con- 
nexion repeatedly announced to us in Scrip- 
ture between desire upon this subject, and its 
accomplishment. He that willeth to do the 
will of God shall know of my doctrine. He 
who hungereth and thirsteth shall be filled. 
He who lacketh wisdom and is desirous of ob- 
taining it, let trim vent his desire in prayer, — 
and if it be the prayer of confidence in God, 
his desire shall be given him. There are thou- 
sands to whom the Bible is a sealed book, and 
who are satisfied that it should remain so, who 
share in the impetuous contempt of the Phari- 
sees against a doctrine to which they are alto- 
gether blind, who have no understanding of the 
matter, and no wish that it should be other- 
wise, — and unto them it will not be given to 
know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. 
They have not, and from them therefore shall 
be taken away even that which they have. 
There are others, again, who have an ardent 
and unquenchable thirst after the mysteries of 
the gospel; who, like the prophet in the Apo- 
calypse, weep much because the book is not 
opened to them ; who complain of darkness, 
like the Apostles of old when they expostulated 



SERMON HI. 



67 



with their Teacher because he spoke in para- 
bles, and, like them, who go to him with their 
requests for an explanation. These shall find 
that what they cannot do for "themselves, the 
Lion of the tribe of J udah will do for them. 
He will prevail to open the book, and to loose 
the seals thereof. There is something they 
already have, even an honest wish to be illu- 
minated, and to this more will be given. They 
are awake to the desirableness, they are 
awake to the necessity of a revelation, which 
they have not yet gotten, — and to them be- 
longs the promise of, Awake 5 O sinner, and 
Christ shall give thee light. 

Secondly, We ought to have a habit of pray- 
er conjoined with a habit of inquiry; and to 
this more will be given. We have already ad- 
verted to the circumstance, that it is in the 
Bible, and not out of the Bible, where this 
light is to be met with. It is by the Spirit of 
God, shining upon the word of God, that his 
truth is reflected with clearness upon the soul. 
It is by his operation that the characters of 
this book are made to stand as visibly out to 
the eye of the understanding, as they do to the 
eye of the body; and therefore it is evident 
that it is not in the act of looking away from 
the written revelation, but in the act of looking 
towards it, that the wished-for illumination 
will at length come into the mind of an in- 
quirer. Let your present condition then be 



68 



SERMON III. 



that of a darkness as helpless and as unattain- 
able as can possibly be imagined, there still 
remains an obvious and practicable direction 
which you can be doing with in the mean time. 
You can persevere in the exercise of reading 
your Bible. There you are at the place of 
meeting between the Spirit of God and your 
own spirit. You may have to wait, as if at the 
pool of Siloam ; but the many calls of the Bi- 
ble to wait upon God, to wait upon him with 
patience, to wait and to be of good courage, 
all prove that this waiting is a frequent and a 
familiar part of that process by which a sinner 
finds his way out of darkness into the marvel- 
lous light of the gospel. 

And we have also adverted already, though 
in a very general way, to the difference in point 
of result between the active inquiries of a man 
who looks forward to the acquisition of saving 
truth as the natural and necessary termination 
of his inquiries, and of a man who mingles with 
every personal attempt after this object, the 
exercise of prayer, and a reverential sense of 
his dependence on God. The latter is just as 
active, and just as inquisitive as the former. 
The difference between them does not lie in 
the one putting forth diligence without a feel- 
ing of dependence, and the other feeling de- 
pendence, without a putting forth of diligence 
He who is in the right path towards the attain- 
ment of light, combines both these properties. 



SERMON -III. 



69 



It is through the avenues of a desirous heart, 
and of an exercised understanding, and of sus- 
tained attention, and of faculties in quest of 
truth, and labouring after the possession of it, 
that God sends into the mind his promised 
manifestations. All this exercise on the one 
hand, without such an acknowledgment of him 
as leads to prayer, will he productive of no- 
thing in the way. of spiritual discernment. And 
prayer, without this exercise, is the mere form 
and mockery of an acknowledgment. He who 
calls upon us to hearken diligently, when he 
addresses us by a living voice, does in effect 
call upon us to read and to ponder diligently 
when he addresses us'by a written message. 
To ask truth of God, while we neglect to do 
for this object what he bids us, is in fact not 
to recognise God, but to insult him. It is to 
hold out the appearance of presenting our- 
selves before him, while we are not doing it at 
the place of meeting, which he has assigned 
for us. It is to address an imaginary Being, 
whom we have invested with a character of 
our own conception, and not the Being who 
bids us search his Scriptures, and incline unto 
his testimonies, and stir ourselves up that we 
may lay hold of him. Such prayer is utterance, 
and nothing more. It wants all the substan- 
tial characters of prayer. It may amount to 
the seeking of those who shall not be able to 
enter the strait gate. It falls short of the 



70 SERMON III. 



striving of those who take the kingdom of hea- 
ven by force, and of whom that kingdom suf- 
fereth violence. 

He who without prayer looks confidently for- 
ward to success as the fruit of his own investi- 
gations, is not walking humbly with God. If 
he w ere humble he would pray. But whether 
is he the more humble who joins with a habit 
of prayer, all those accompanying circum- 
stances w hich God hath prescribed, or he who, 
in neglect of these circumstances, ventures 
himself into his presence in the language of 
supplication ? There may be the show of hu- 
mility in confiding the whole cause of our spi- 
ritual and saving illumination to the habit of 
praying for it to God. But if God himself tell 
us, that we must read, and seek, and meditate, 
then it is no longer humility to keep by the 
solitary exercise of praying. It is in fact, keep- 
ing pertinaciously by our own way, heedless 
of his will and his way altogether. It is ap- 
proaching God in the pride, of oUr own under- 
standing. It is detaching from the whole work 
of seeking after him some of those component 
parts which he himself hath recommended. In 
the very act of making prayer stand singly out 
as the alone instrument of success, we are in fact 
drawing the life and the spirit out of prayer 
itself ; and causing it to wither into a thing of 
no power and no significancy in the sight of 
God. It is not the prayer of acknowledgment, 



SERMON III. 



71 



unless it comes from him who acknowledges 
the will of God in other things as well as in 
prayer. It is not the prayer of submission un- 
less it comes from the heart of a man who 
manifests a principle of submission in all 
things. 

Thirdly, We ought to do all that we know 
to be God's will, and to this habit of humble 
earnest desirous reformation more will be 
given. 

We trust that what has been said will pre- 
pare you for the reception of another advice 
besides that of reading or praying for the at- 
tainment of that manifestation which you are 
in quest of, — and that is, doing. There is an 
alarm raised in many a heart at the very sug- 
gestion of doing for an inquirer, lest he should 
be misled as to the ground of his justification; 
lest among the multitude or the activity of his 
works, he should miss the truth, that a man is 
accepted, not through the works of the law, 
but by faith in Jesus Christ ; le'st by every one 
performance of duty, he should just be adding 
another stone to the fabric of a delusive confi- 
dence, and presumptuously try to force his own 
way to heaven, without the rocognition of the 
gospel or any of its peculiarities. Now, doing 
stands precisely in the same relation to prayer 
that reading does. Without the one or the 
other it is the prayer either of presumption or 
hypocrisy. If he both read and pray, it is far 



72 



SERMON III. 



more likeiy that he will be brought unto the 
condition of a man being justified through faith 
in Christ, than that he will rest his hopes be- 
fore God in the mere exercise of reading. If 
he both do and pray, it is far more likely that 
he will come to be established in the right- 
eousness of Christ, as the foundation of all his 
trust, than that he will rest upon his own right- 
eousness. For a man to give up sin at the 
outset, is just to do what God wills him at the 
outset. For a man at the commencement of 
his inquiries, to be strenuous in the relinquish- 
ment of all that he knows to be evil, is just to 
enter on the path of approach towards Christ, 
in the very way that Christ desires him. He 
who cometh unto me must forsake all. For a 
man to put forth an immediate hand to the do- 
ing of the commandments, while he is groping 
his way towards a firm basis on w r hich he might 
rear his security before God, is not to deviate 
or diverge from the Saviour. He may do it 
with an eye of most intense earnestness to- 
wards the Saviour, — and while the artificial 
interpreter of Christ's doctrine holds him to be 
wrong, Christ himself may recognise him . to be 
one of those who keep his sayings, and to whom 
therefore he stands pledged to manifest him- 
self. The man in fact by strenuously doing, is 
just the more significantly and the more ener- 
getically prraying. He is adding one ingre- 
dient to the business of seeking, without which 



SERMON III, 73 

the other ingredient would be in God's sight 
an abomination. He is struggling against all 
regard to iniquity in his heart, seeing that if 
he have this regard God will not hear him. 
To say, that it is dangerous to tell a man in 
these circumstances to do, lest he rest in his 
doings and fall short of the Saviour, is to say, 
that it would be dangerous to place a man on 
the road to his wished-for home, lest when he 
has got upon the road, he should stand still 
and be satisfied. The more, in fact, that the 
man's conscience is exercised and enlightened 
(and what more fitted than wilful sin to deafen 
the voice of conscience altogether ?) the less will 
it let him alone, and the more will it urge him 
onward to that righteousness which is the only 
one commensurate to God's law, and in which 
alone the holy and inflexible God can look upon 
him with complacency. Let him humbly betake 
himself, then, to the prescribed path of reading, 
and prayer, and obvious reformation, — and let 
us see if there do not evolve upon his mind, 
in the prosecution of it, the worthlessness of all 
that man can do for his meritorious acceptance 
with the Lawgiver— and the deep ungodliness 
of character which adheres to him — and the suit- 
ableness of Christ's atonement to all his felt ne- 
cessities, and all his moral aspirations-^and the 
need in which he stands of a regenerating in- 
fluence, to make him a willing and a spiritual 
subject of God. Let us see whether, though 

10 



74 



SERMON III. 



the light which he at length receives be mar- 
vellous, the way is not plain which leads to it ; 
and whether though nature be compassed 
about with a darkness which no power of nature 
can dissipate,— there is not a clear and obvious 
procedure, by the steps of which the most 
alienated of her children may be carried on- 
wards to all the manifestations of the kingdom 
of grace, and to the discernment of all its 
mysteries. 

Though, to the natural eye, the doctrine 
of Christ be not plain, the way is plain by 
which we arrive at it. Though, ere we see the 
things of Christ, the Spirit must take of them 
stnd show them unto us, — yet this Spirit deals 
out such admonitions to all, that, if we fbllow 
them, he will not cease to enlarge, and to 
extend his teaching, till we have obtained a 
saving illumination. He is given to those who 
obey him. He abandons those who resist him. 
When conscience tells us to read, and to pray, 
and to reform, it is he who is prompting this 
faculty. It is he who is sending through this 
organ, the whispers of his own voice to the ear 
of the inner man. If we go along with the 
movement, he will follow it up by other move- 
ments* He will visit him who is the willing 
subject of his first influences by higher demon- 
strations. He will carry forward his own work 
in the heart of that man, who, while acting up- 
on the suggestions of his own moral sense, is in 



SERMON III. 



75 



tact acting in conformity to the warnings of this 
kind and faithful monitor. So that the Holy 
Spirit will connect his very first impulses on the 
mind of that inquirer, who under the reign of 
earnestness, has set himself to read his Bible, 
and to knock with importunity at the door of 
heaven^ and to forsake the evil of his ways, and 
to iurn hirrbto the practice of all that he knows 
to be right, — the Spirit will connect these inci- 
pient measures of a seeker after Zion, with the 
acquirement of wisdom and revelation in the 
knowledge of Christ. 

Let it not be said, then, that because the doc- 
trine of Christ is shrouded in mystery to the 
general eye of the world, it is such a mystery as 
renders it inaccessible to the men of the world. 
Even to them does the trumpet of invitation 
blow a certain sound. They may not yet see 
the arcana of the temple, but they may see the 
road which leads to the temple. If they are 
never to obtain admission there, it is not be- 
cause they cannot, but because they will not s 
come to it. " Ye will not come me," says the 
Saviour, " that ye might have life?' Reading, and 
prayer, and reformation, these are all obvious 
things ; and it is the neglect of these obvious 
things which involves them in the guilt and the 
ruin of those who neglect the great salvation. 
This salvation is to be found of those who seek 
after it. The knowledge of God and of Jesus 
Christ, which is life everlasting, is a knowledge 



76 SERMON III. 

open and acquirable to all. And, on the day of 
judgment, there will not be found a single in- 
stance of a man condemned because of unbe- 
lief, who sought to the uttermost of his oppor- 
tunities ; and evinced the earnestness of his de- 
sire after peace with God, by doing all that he 
might have done, and by being all that he 
might have been] 

Be assured, then, that it will be for want of 
seeking, if you do not find. It will be for want 
of learning, if you are not taught. It will be for 
want of obedience to the movements of your own 
conscience, if the Holy Ghost, who prompts and 
who stimulates the conscience to all its move- 
ments, be not poured upon you, in one large 
and convincing manifestation. It may still be 
the day of small things with you — a day des- 
pised by the accomplished adepts of a syste- 
matic and articled theology. But God will 
not despise it. He will not leave your long- 
ings for ever unsatisfied. He will not keep 
you standing always at the threshold of vain 
desires and abortive endeavours. That faith, 
which is tjie gift of God, you have already at- 
tained in a degree, if you have obtained a ge- 
neral conviction of the importance and reality 
of the whole matter. He will increase that 
faith. Act up to the light that you have gotten 
by reading earnestly, and praying importunate- 
ly, and striving laboriously, — and to you more 
will be given. You will at length obtain a 



SERMON III. 



77 



clear and satisfying impression of the things of 
God, and the things of salvation. Christ will 
be recognised in all his power and in all his pre- 
ciousness. You will know what it is to be esta- 
blished upon him. The natural legality of your 
hearts will give way to the pure doctrine of ac- 
ceptance with God, through faith in the blood of 
a crucified Saviour. The sanctifying influence 
of such a faith will not merely be talked of 
in word, but be experienced in power ; and 
you will evince that you are God's workman- 
ship in Christ Jesus, by your abounding in all 
those fruits of righteousness which are through 
him, to the praise and glory of the Father. 

II. We shall now attempt to explain, how it 
is that the mysteries of the gospel are, in many 
cases, evolved upon the mind in a clear and 
convincing manifestation. 

And here let it be distinctly understood, 
that the way in many cases may be very far 
from the way in all cases. The experience of 
converts is exceedingly various, — nor do we 
know a more frequent, and at the same time a 
more groundless cause of anxiety, than that by 
which the mind of an inquirer is often harassed, 
when he attempts to realize the very process 
by which another has been called out of dark- 
ness to the marvellous light of the gospel. 

Referring, then, to those grounds of mysteri- 
ousness which we have already specified in a 



78 



SERMON ill. 



former discourse, — God may so manifest himself 
to the mind of an inquirer, as to convince him, 
that all those analogies of common life which 
are taken from the relation of a servant to his 
master, or of a son to his father, or of a subject 
to his sovereign, utterly fail in the case of man, 
as he is by nature, in relation to his God. A 
servant may discharge all his obligations; a 
son may acquit himself of all his duties, or may, 
with his occasional failures, and his occasional 
chastisements, still keep his place in the instinc- 
tive affection of his parents ; and a subject may, 
persevere in unseduced loyalty to the earthly go- 
vernment under which he lives. But the glaring 
and the demonstrable fact with regard to man, 
viewed as a creature, is, that the habit of his heart 
is one continued habit of dislike and resistance 
to the Creator who gave him birth. The earth- 
ly master may have all those services rendered 
to which he has a right, and so be satisfied. 
The earthly father may have all the devoted- 
ness, and all the attachment, from his family, 
which he can desire, and so be satisfied. The 
earthly sovereign may have all that allegiance 
from a loyal subject, who pays his taxes, and 
never transgresses his laws, which he expects or 
cares for, and so be satisfied. Butgo upward from 
them to the God who made us, — to the God who 
keeps us, — to the God in whom we live, and 
move, and have our being, — to the God whose 
care and whose presence are ever surrounding 



SERMON III. 



79 



us, who, from morning to night, and from 
night to morning, watches over us, and tends 
us while we sleep, and guides us in our waking 
moments, and follows us to the business of the 
world, and brings us back in safety to our 
homes, and never for a single instant of time 
withdraws from us the superintendence of an 
eye that never slumbers, and of a hand that is 
never weary. Now, all we require is a fair esti- 
mate of the claims of such a God. Does he 
ask too much, when he asks the affections of a 
heart that receives its every beat, and its every 
movement, from the impulse of his power ? Does 
he ask too much, when he asks the devoted- 
ness of a life, which owes its every hour and its 
every moment to him, whose right hand pre- 
serves us continually ? Has he no right to com- 
plain, when he knocks at the door of our hearts, 
and, trying to possess himself of the love and 
the confidence of his own creatures, he finds 
that all their thoughts, and all their pursuits* 
and all their likings, are utterly away from him? 
Is there no truth, and no justice, in the charge 
which he prefers against us,— when surrounded 
as we are by the gifts of nature and of provi- 
dence, all of which are his, the giver is mean- 
while forgotten, and, amid the enjoyments oi 
his bounty, we live without him in the world. 
If it indeed be true, that itis his sun which lights 
us on our path, and his earth on which we tread 
so firmly, and his air which circulates a fresh- 



80 



SERMON III. 



ness around our dwellings, and his rain which 
feeds all the luxuriance that is spread around 
us, and drops upon every field the smiling pro- 
mise of abundance for the wants of his depend- 
ent children, — if all this be true, can it at 
the same time be right, that this all-providing 
God should have so little a place in our remem- 
brance ? that the whole man should be other- 
wise engaged, than with a sense of him, and the 
habitual exercise of acknowledgment to him ? 
that in fact the full play of his regards should 
be expended on the things which are formed, 
and through the whole system of his conduct 
and his affairs, there should be so utter aneglect 
of him who formed them ? Surely if this be the 
true description of man, and the character of 
his heart in reference to God, then it is a case 
of too peculiar a nature to be illustrated by any 
of the analogies of human society. It must be 
taken up on its own grounds ; and should the in- 
jured and offended Lawgiver offer to make it 
the subject of any communication, it is our part 
humbly to listen and implicitly to follow it. 

And here it is granted, that amongst the men 
who are utter strangers to this communica- 
tion, you meet with the better and the worse : 
and that there is an obvious line of distinction 
which marks off the base and the worthless 
amongst them, from those of them who are the 
valuable and the accomplished members of so- 
ciety. And yet do we aver, that one may step 



SERMON III. 



81 



over that line and not be nearer than he was to 
God, — that, between the men on either side of 
it, and Him who created them, there lies an un- 
trodden gulf of separation, — that, with all the 
justice which rules their transactions, and all 
the honour which animates their bosoms, and 
all the compassion which warms their hearts, 
and streams forth either in tears of pity, or in 
acts of kindness, upon the miserable, — with all 
these virtues which they do have, and which 
serve both to bless and to adorn the condition 
of humanity, there is one virtue, which, prior 
to the reception and the influence of the gos- 
pel of Christ, they most assuredly do not have, 
— they are utterly devoid of godliness. They 
have no desire, and no inclination towards God. 
There may be the dread of him, and the occa- 
sional remembrance of him; but there is no af- 
fection for him. This is the charge which we 
carry round amongst all the sons and daughters 
of Adam, who have not submitted themselves to 
the only name that is given under heaven where- 
by men can be saved. We are not denying that 
the persons of some of them are dignified by 
the more respectable attributes of character; 
and that, from the persons of others of them, 
there are beauteously reflected the more amia- 
ble and endearing attributes of character. But 
we affirm, that with all these random varieties 
of moral exhibition which are to be found — the 
principle of loyalty to God has lost the hold of a 
11 



82 SERMON III. 



presiding influence over all the children of our 
degraded and undone nature. We ask you to 
collect all the scattered remnants of what is 
great, and of what is graceful in accomplish- 
ments that may have survived the fall of our 
first parents ; and we pronounce, of the whole 
assemblage, that they go not to alleviate, by 
one iota, the burden of that controversy which 
lies between God and their posterity, — that 
throughout all the ranks and diversities of cha- 
racter which prevail in the world, there is one per- 
vading affection of enmity to him ; that the man 
of talents forgets that he has nothing which he 
did not receive, and so, courting, by some lofty 
enterprise of mind, the gaze of this world's ad- 
miration, he renounces his God, and makes an 
idol of his fame, — that the man of ambition feels 
not how subordinate he is to the might and the 
majesty of his Creator, but turning away all 
his reverence from him, falls down to the idol of 
power, — that the man of avarice withdraws all 
his trust from the living God, and, embarking 
all his desire in the pursuit of riches, and all 
his security in the possession of them, he makes 
an idol of wealth, — that, descending from these 
to the average and the every-day members of 
our world's population, we see each walking 
after the counsel of his own heart, and in the 
sight of his own eyes, with every wish directed 
to the objects of time, and every hope bounded 
by its anticipations: And, amid all the love they 



SERMON III. 



83 



bear to their families, and all the diligence they 
give to their business^ and all the homage of 
praise and attachment they obtain from their 
friends, are they so surrounded by the influ- 
ences of what is seen and what is sensible, that 
the invisible God is scarcely ever thought of, 
and his character not at all dwelt on with de- 
light, and his will never admitted to an habi- 
tual and a practical ascendency over their con- 
duct, so as to make it true of all, and of every 
one of us, that there is none who understand- 
eth, and none who seeketh after God. 

Now, if a man do not see this case made out 
against himself in all its enormity, he will feel 
that the man who talks of it, and who proposes 
the gospel application to it, talketh mysterious- 
ly. If the Spirit have not convinced him of sin, 
and he have not learned to submit his charac- 
ter to the lofty standard of a law which offers 
to subordinate to the will of God, not merely the 
whole habit of his outward history, but also the 
whole habit of his inward affections, both the dis- 
ease and the remedy are alike unknown to him. 
His character may be fair and respectable in the 
eyes of men; but it will not carry upon it one 
feature of that spirituality and holiness, and re- 
lish for those exercises that have God for their 
immediate object, which assimilate men to an- 
gels, and make them meet for the joys of eterni- 
ty. His morality will be the morality of life, and 
his virtues will be the virtues of the world : and 



SERMON III. 



all the mystery of a parable, or of a dark saying, 
will appear to hang over the terms and the ex- 
planations of that gospel, against the light of 
which, the god of this world blindeth the minds 
of those who believe not. 

Let us therefore reflect that the principle 
on which the peculiarities of the gospel look 
so mysterious, is just the feeling which nature 
has of its own sufficiency ; and, that you may 
renounce this delusive feeling altogether, we 
ask you to think, how totally destitute you are 
of that which God chiefly requires of you. He 
requires your heart, and we venture to say of 
every man amongst you, who has heretofore 
lived in neglect of the great salvation, that his 
heart, with all its objects and affections, is away 
from God, — that it is not a sense of obligation 
to him which forms the habitual and the pre- 
siding influence of its movements, — that there- 
fore every day and every hour of your history 
in the world, accumulates upon you the guilt 
of a disobedience of a far deeper and more of- 
fensive character than even the disobedience 
of your more notorious and external violations. 
There is ever with you, lying folded in the re- 
cesses of your bosom, and pervading the whole 
system both of your desires and of your doings, 
that which gives to sin all its turpitude, and all 
its moral hideousness in the sight of God. 
There is a rooted preference of the creature to 
the Creator. There is a full desire after the 



SERMON III. 



85 



gift, and a listless ingratitude towards the giv- 
er. There in an utter devotedness, in one shape 
or other, to the world that is to be burnt up, — 
and an utter forgetfulness, amid all your forms, 
and all your decencies, of him who endureth for 
ever. There is that universal attribute of the 
carnal mind — enmity against God; and we 
affirm that, with this distaste in your hearts 
towards him, you, on every principle of a spirit- 
ual and intelligent morality, are as chargeable 
with rebellion against your Maker, as if some 
apostate angel had been your champion, and 
you warred with God, under the waving stand- 
ards of defiance. It was to clear away the 
guilt of this monstrous iniquity that Christ died. 
It was to make it possible for God, with his 
truth unviolated, and his holiness untarnished, 
and all the high attributes of his eternal and 
unchangeable nature unimpaired, to hold out 
forgiveness to the world, — that propitiation was 
made through the blood of his own Son, even 
that God might be just, while the justifier of 
them who believe in Jesus. It is to make it 
possible for man to love the Being whom nature 
taught him to hate and to fear, that God now 
lifts, from his mercy-seat, a voice of the most 
beseeching tenderness, and smiles upon the 
world as God in Christ, reconciling the world 
unto himself, and not imputing unto them their 
trespasses. It was utterly to shift the moral 
constitution of our minds, — an achievement 
beyond any power of humanity, — that the Sa- 



86 



SERMON III. 



viour, after he died and rose again, obtained 
the promise of the Father, even that Spirit, 
through whom alone the fixed and radical dis- 
ease of nature can be done away. And thus, 
by the ministration of the baptism of the Holy 
Ghost, does he undertake not only to improve 
but to change us, — not only to repair but to 
re-make us, — not only to amend our evil works, 
but to create us anew unto good works, that 
we may be the workmanship of God in Christ 
Jesus our Lord. These are the leading and 
essential peculiarities of the New Testament. 
This is the truth of Christ; though to the ge- 
neral mind of the world it is the truth of Christ 
in a mystery. These are the parables which 
the commissioned messengers of grace are to 
deal out to the sinful children of Adam, — and 
dark .as they may appear, or disgusting as they 
may sound in the ears of those who think that 
they are rich, and have need of nothing, they 
are the very articles upon which hope is made 
to beam on the heart of a converted sinner — 
and peace is restored to him, — and acceptance 
with God is secured by the terms of an unalter- 
able covenant, — and the only effective instru- 
ments of a vital and substantial reformation 
are provided ; so that he who before was dead 
in trespasses and sins is quickened together 
with Christ, and made alive unto God, and 
renewed again after his image, and enabled to 
make constant progress in all the graces of 
a holy and spiritual obedience. 



SERMON IV 



AN ESTIMATE OF THE MORALITY THAT IS 
WITHOUT GODLINESS. 



Job ix. 30—33. 

w If I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands 
never so clean : Yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, 
and mine own clothes shall abhor me. For he is not a 
man, as I am, that I should answer him, and we should 
come together in judgment. Neither is there any day's- 
man betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both." 

To the people of every Christian country the 
doctrine of a Mediator between God and man 
is familiarized by long possession ; though to 
many of them it be nothing more than the fa- 
miliarity of a name recognised as a well-known 
sound by the ear, without sending one fruit- 
ful or substantial thought into the understand- 
ing. For, let it be observed, that the list- 
less acquiescence of the mind, in a doctrine, to 
the statement or to the explanation of which 
it has been long habituated, is a very different 
thing from the actual hold which the mind 
takes of the doctrine,— insomuch that it is very 



88 



SERMON IV. 



possible for man to be a lover of orthodoxy, 
and to sit with complacency under its ministers, 
and to be revolted by the heresies of those who 
would either darken or deny any of its articles, 
— and, in a word, to be most tenacious in his 
preference for that form of words to which he 
has been accustomed; while to the meaning 
of the words themselves, the whole man is in a 
state of entire dormancy, and delighted though 
he really be by the utterance of the truth, ex- 
hibits not in his person, or in his history, one 
evidence of that practical ascendency which 
Christian truth is sure to exert over the heart 
and the habits of every genuine believer. 

In the midst of all this dimness, and all this 
indolence about the realities of salvation, it is 
refreshing to view the workings of a mind that 
is in earnest ; and of a mind too, which, instead 
of being mechanically carried forward in the 
track of a prescribed or authoritative orthodoxy, 
is prompted to all its aspirations by a deep feel- 
ing of guilt, and of necessity. Such we con- 
ceive to have been the mind of Job, to whom 
the doctrine of a Redeemer had not been expli- 
citly unfolded, but who seems at times to have 
been favoured with a prophetic glimpse of him 
through the light of a dim and distant futurity. 
The state of his body, covered as it was with 
disease, makes him an object of sympathy. But 
there is a still deeper and more attractive sym- 
pathy excited by the state of his soul, labour- 



SERMON IV. 



89 



ing under the visitation of a hand that was too 
heavy for him ; called out to a combat with 
God, and struggling to maintain it ; at one 
time, tempted to measure the justice of his 
cause with the righteousness of Heaven's dis- 
pensations ; at another, closing his complaint 
with the murmurs of a despairing acquies- 
cence ; and at length brought, through all the 
varieties of an exercised and agitated spirit, 
to submit himself to God, and to repent in dust 
and in ashes. 

There is a darkness in the book of Job. He, 
at one time, under the soreness of his calamity, 
gives way to impatience ; and, at another, he 
seems to recall the hasty utterance of his more 
distempered moments. He, in one place, fills 
his mouth with arguments; and, in another, he 
appears willing to surrender them all, and to 
decline the unequal struggle of man contending 
with his Maker. He is evidently oppressed 
throughout by a feeling of want, without the 
full understanding of an adequate or an appro- 
priate remedy. Now, it does give a higher 
sense of the value of this remedy, when we are 
made to witness the unsatisfied longings of one 
wholivedinadarkand early period of the world 
— when we hear him telling, as he does M these 
verses, where the soreness lies, and obscurely 
guessing at the ministration that is suited to it, — 
nor do we know a single passage of the Bible 
which carries home with greater effect the ne- 
12 



90 SERMON IV 



cessity of a Mediator, than that where Job, on 
his restless bed, is set before us, wearying him- 
self in the hopeless task of arguing with God, 
and calling for some dayVman betwixt them, 
who might lay his hand upon them both. 

The afflictions which were heaped upon Job 
made him doubt his acceptance with his Maker. 
This was the great burden of his complaint, and 
the recovery of this acceptance was the theme 
of many a fruitless and fatiguing speculation. 
We have one of these speculations in the verses 
which are now submitted to you ; and as they 
are four in number, so there is such a distinc- 
tion in the subjects of them, that the passage 
naturally resolves itself into four separate to- 
pics of illustration. In the 30th verse, we 
have an expedient proposed by Job, for the 
purpose of obtaining the acceptance which he 
longed after : " If I wash myself with snow 
water, and make my hands never so clean." In 
the 31st verse, we have the inefficacy of this 
expedient: "Yet shalt thou plunge me in 
the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor 
me." In the 3 -?.d verse, he gives the reason 
of this inefficacy : " For he is not a man, as I 
am, that I should answer him, and we should 
come together in judgment." And in the 33d 
verse, he intimates to us the right expedient, 
under the form of complaining that he himself 
has not the benefit of it : " Neither is there 



SERMON IV. 



9t 



any day's-man betwixt us, that might lay his 
hand upon us both." 

I. It is not to be wondered at, that even a 
mistaken efficacy should be ascribed to snow 
water, in the country of Job's residence, where 
snow, if ever it fell at all, must have fallen rare- 
ly, at very extraordinary seasons, and in the 
more elevated parts of his neighbourhood. This 
rarity, added to its unsullied whiteness, might 
have given currency to an idea of its efficacy 
as a purifier, beyond what actually belonged to 
it. Certain it is, too, that snow water, like water 
deposited from the atmosphere in any other 
form, does not possess that hardness which 
is often to be met with in spring water. 
But however this be, and whether the popular 
notion of the purifying virtues of snow water, 
taken up by Job, be well founded or not, we 
have here an expedient suggested for making 
the hands clean, and the man pure and accep- 
table in the sight of God,— a method proposed 
within the reach of man, and which man can 
perform, for making himself an object of com- 
placency to his Maker, — a method too, which is 
quite effectual for beautifying all that meets 
the discernment of the outward eye, and 
which is here set before us as connected wi f h 
the object of gaining the eye of that high and 
heavenly Witness, with whom we have to do« 
This is whatwe understand to be represented by 



92 



SERMON IV. 



washing with snow water. It comprehends all 
that man can do for washing himself, and for 
making himself clean in the sight of God. 
Job complains of the fruitlessness of this expe- 
dient, and perhaps mingles with his complaints 
the reproaches of a spirit that was not yet sub- 
dued to entire acquiescence in the righteousness 
of God. Let us try to examine this matter, 
and, if possible, ascertain whether man is able, 
on the utmost stretch of his powers and of his 
performances, to make himself an object of ap- 
probation to his Judge. 

Without entering into the metaphysical con- 
troversy about the extent or the freedom of hu- 
man agency, let it be observed, that there is 
a plain and a popular understanding on the 
subject of what man can do, and of what he 
cannot do. We wish to proceed on this under- 
standing for the present, and to illustrate it 
by a few examples. Should it be asked, if a 
man can keep his hands from stealing, it would 
be the unhesitating answer of almost every one 
that he can do it, — and if he can keep his 
tongue from lying, that he can do it, — and if he 
can constrain his feet to carry him every Sab- 
bath to the house of God, that he can do this 
also, — -and if he can tithe his income, or even 
reducing himself to the necessaries of life, make 
over the mighty sacrifice of all the remainder 
to the poor, that it is certainly possible for him 
to do it, — and if he can keep a guard upon his 



SERMON IV. 



93 



lips- so that not one whisper of malignity shall 
escape from them.- that he can also prescribe 
this task to himself, and is able to perform it. — 
and if he can read much of his Bible, and ut- 
ter many prayers in private, that he can do it. — 
and if he can assemble his family on the morn- 
ing and the evening of every day, and go 
through the worship of God along with them, 
that all this he can do. — that all this lies with- 
in the compass of human agency. 

Let any one man do. then, what all men think 
it possible for him to do, and he will wear upon 
his person the visible exhibition of much to re- 
commend him to the favourable judgment of 
his fellows. He will be guilty of no one trans- 
gression against the peace and order of society. 
He will be correct, and regular, and completely 
inoffensive. He will contribute many a deed 
of positive beneficence to the welfare of those 
around him : and may even, on the strength of 
his many decencies, and many observations, 
hold out an aspect of religiousness to the ge- 
neral eye of the world. There will be a wide 
and most palpable distinction of character be- 
tween him. and those who. at large from the 
principle of self-control, resign themselves to 
the impulse of every present temptation ; and 
are either intemperate, or dishonest, or negli- 
gent of ordinances, just as habit, or the urgency 
of their feelings and their circumstances, may 
happen to have obtained the ascendency over 
(hem. These do not what they might, and 



94 



SERMON IV. 



what, in common estimation, they can do ; and 
it is just because the man has put forth all his 
strenuousness to the task of accomplishing all 
that he is able for, that he looks so much more 
seemly than those who are beside him, and 
holds out a far more engaging display of what 
is moral and praise-worthy to all his acquain- 
tances. 

II. I will not be able to convince you how 
superficial the reformation of all these doings 
is, without passing on to the 31st verse, 
and proving, that in the pure eye of God the 
man who has made the most copious application 
in his power of snow water to the visible con- 
duct, may still be an object of abhorrence ; and 
that if God enter into judgment with him, he 
will make him appear as one plunged in the 
ditch, his righteousness as filthy rags, and him- 
self as an unclean thing. There are a thou- 
sand things which, in popular and understood 
language, man can do. It is quite the general 
sentiment, that he can abstain from stealing, and 
lying, and calumny,— that he can give of his sub- 
stance to the poor, and attend church, and pray, 
and read his Bible, and keep up the worship of 
God in his family. But, as an instance of dis- 
tinction between what he can do, and what he 
cannot do, let us make the undoubted asser- 
tion, that he can eat wormwood, and just put 
the question, if he can also relish wormwood. 
That is a different affair. I may command the 
performance ; but have no such command over 



SERMON IV. 



95 



my organs of sense, as to command a liking, or 
a taste for the performance. The illustration 
is homely; but it is enough for our purpose, 
if it be effective. 1 may accomplish the doing 
of what God bids; but have no pleasure in 
God himself. The forcible constraining of 
the hand, may make out many a visible act 
of obedience, but the relish of the heart may 
refuse to go along with it. The outer man 
may be all in a bustle about the command- 
ments of God, while to the inner man God 
is an offence and a weariness. His neighbours 
may look at him, and all that their eye can 
reach may be as clean as snow water can make 
it. But the eye of God reaches a great deal 
farther. He is the discerner of the thoughts 
and intents of the heart, and he may see the 
foulness of spiritual idolatry in every one of its 
receptacles. The poor man has no more con- 
quered his rebellious affections, than he has 
conquered his distaste for wormwood. He may 
fear God ; he may listen to God ; and, in out- 
ward deed, may obey God. But he does not, 
and he will not, love God ; and while he drags 
a heavy load of tasks, and duties, and observ- 
ances after him, he lives in the hourly violation 
of the first and greatest of the commandments 
W ould any parent among you count it enough 
that you obtained a service like this from one 
of your children? Would you be satisfied with 
the obedience of his hand, while you knew that 
the affections of his heart were totally away from 



96 



SERMON IV. 



you ? Let every one requirement, issued from 
the chair of parental authority, be most rigidly 
and punctually done by him, would not the suU 
lenness of his alienated countenance turn the 
whole of it into bitterness? It is the heart of 
his son which the parent longs after; and the 
lurking distaste and disaffection which rankle 
there, can never, never be made up by such an 
obedience, as the yoked and the tortured negro 
is compelled to yield to the whip of the over- 
seer. The service may be done; but all that 
can minister satisfaction in the principle of the 
service, may be withheld from it; and though 
the very last item of the bidden performance 
is rendered, this will neither mend the defor- 
mity of the unnatural child, nor soothe the feel- 
ings of the afflicted and the mortified father. 

God is the Father of spirits ; and the willing 
subjection of the spirit is that which he requires 
of us; $ My son, give me thy heart;" and if the 
heart be withheld, God says of all our visible 
performances, " To what purpose is the multi- 
tude of your sacrifices unto me ?" The heart 
is his requirement ; and full, indeed, is the title 
which he prefers to it. He put life into us ; and 
it is he who hath drawn a circle of enjoyments, 
and friendships, and interests around us. Every 
thing that we take delight in, is ministered to 
us out of his hand. He plies us every moment 
with his kindness ; and when at length the gift 
stole the heart of man away from the Giver, so 
that he became a lover of his own pleasure. 



SERMON IV. 



97 



rather than a lover of God, even then would 
he not leave us to perish in the guilt of our 
rebellion. Man made himself an alien, but 
God was not willing to abandon him ; and, ra- 
ther than lose him for ever, did he devise a way 
of access by which to woo, and to welcome him 
back again. The way of our recovery is indeed 
a way that his heart was set upon ; and to prove 
it, he sent his own eternal Son into the world, 
who unrobed him of all his glories, and made 
himself of no reputation. He had to travel in 
the greatness of his strength, that he might un- 
bar the gates of acceptance to a guilty world; 
and now that, in full harmony with the truth 
and the justice of God, sinners may draw nigh 
through the blood of the atonement, what is 
the wonderful length to which the condescen- 
sion of God carries him ? Why, he actually be- 
seeches us to be reconciled ; and, with a tone 
more tender than the affection of an earthly 
father ever prompted, does he call upon us to 
turn, and to turn, for why should we die ? If, 
after all this, the antipathy of nature to God 
still cleave to us ; if, under the power of this 
antipathy, the service we yield be the cold and 
unwilling service of constraint ; if. with many 
of the visible outworks of obedience, there be 
also the stragglings of a reluctant heart to take 
away from this obedience all its cheerfulness, 
is not God defrauded of his offering? Does 
there not rest on the moral aspect of our cha- 
racter in reference to him, all the odiousness of 
13 



98 SfiRMON IV. 



unnatural children ? Let our outer doings be 
what they may, does there not adhere to us the 
turpitude of having deeply revolted against that 
Being whose kindness has never abandoned us? 
And, though pure in the eye of our fellows* 
and our hands be clean as with snow water, is 
there nothing in our hearts against which a 
spiritual law may denounce its severities, and 
the giver of that law may lift a voice of right- 
eous expostulation / " Hear ye now what the 
Lord saith ; Arise, contend thou before the 
mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. 
Hear ye, O mountains, the Lord's controversy, 
and ye strong foundations of the earth : for the 
Lord hath a controversy with his people, and 
he will plead with Israel. O my people, what 
have I done unto thee, and wherein have I 
wearied thee ? testify against me." 

It is not easy to lay open the utter naked- 
ness of the natural heart in reference to God ; 
or to convince the possessor of it, that, under 
the guise of his many plausibilities, there may 
lurk that which gives to sin all its hideousness. 
The mere man of ordinances cannot acquiesce 
in what he reckons to be the exaggerations of 
orthodoxy upon this subject ; nor can he at all 
conceive how it is possible that, with so much 
of the semblance of godliness about him, there 
should, at the same time, be within him the 
very opposite of godliness. It is, indeed, a dif- 
ficult task to carry upon this point the con- 
viction of him who positively loves the Sabbath. 



SERMON IV. 



99 



and to whom the chime of its morning bells 
brings the delightful associations of peace and 
ofsacredness, —who has his hours of prayer, at 
which he gathers his family around him, and 
his hours of attendance on that house where 
the man of God deals out his weekly lessons to 
the assembled congregation. It may be in vain to 
tell him, that God in fact is a weariness to his 
heart, when it is attested to him by his own 
consciousness; that when the preacher is before 
him, and the people are around him, and the 
professed object of their coming together is to 
join in the exercise of devotion, and to grow in 
the knowledge of God, he finds in fact that all 
is pleasantness, — that his eye is not merely 
filled with the public exhibition, and his ear 
regaled by the impressiveness of a human voice, 
but that the interest of his heart is completely 
kept up by the succession and variety of the 
exercises It may be in vain to tell him, that 
this religion of taste, or this religion of habit, 
or this religion of inheritance, may utterly con- 
sist with the deep and the determined worldli- 
ness of all his affections, — that he whom he 
thinks to be the God of his Sabbath is not the 
God of his week ; but that, throughout ail the 
successive days of it, he is going astray after the 
idols of vanity, and living without God in the 
world. This is demonstration enough of all his 
forms, and all his observations, being a mere 
surface display, without a living principle of 
piety. But perhaps it may serve more effectu- 



iOd SERMON IV. 



ally to convince him of it, should we ask him, 
how his godliness- thrives in the closet, and 
what are the workings of his heart, in the ab- 
stract and solitary hour of intercourse, with the 
unseen Father. In church, there may be much 
to interest him, and to keep him alive. But 
when alone, and deserted by all the accom- 
paniments of a solemn assembly, we should 
like to know with what vivacity he enters on 
the one business of meditating on God, and 
holding converse with God. Is the sense of 
the all-seeing and ever-present Deity enough 
for him ; and does love to God brighten and 
sustain the moments of solitary prayer ? The 
mind may have enough to interest it in 
church; but does the secret exercise of fellow- 
ship with the Father bring no distaste, and no 
weariness along with it ? Is it any thing more 
than the homage of a formal presentation? 
And when the business of devotion is thus un- 
peopled of all its externals, and of all its ac- 
cessaries ; when thus reduced to a naked exer- 
cise of spirit, can you appeal to the longings, 
and the affections of that spirit, as the essen- 
tial proof of your godliness ? And do you never, 
on occasions like this, discover that which is in 
your hearts, and detect their enmity to him 
who formed them ? Do you afford no ground for 
the complaint which he uttered of old, when he 
said, " Have I been a wilderness unto Israel, 
and a land of darkness ?" And do you not per- 
ceive that with this direction of your feelings 



SERMON IV. 



101 



and your desires away from the living God, 
though you be outwardly clean, as by the 
operation of snow water, he may plunge you 
in the ditch, and make your own clothes to ab- 
hor you ? 

We shall conclude this part of our subject 
with two observations. 

First. The efforts of nature may, in point of 
inadequacy, be compared to the application of 
snow water. Yet there is a practical mischief 
here, in which the zeal of controversy, bent on 
its one point, and its one principle, may uncon- 
sciously involve us. We are not, in pursuit of 
any argument whatever, to lose sight of efforts. 
We are Jiot to deny them the place, and the 
importance which the Bible plainly assigns to 
them; nor are we to forbear insisting upon their 
performance by men, previous to conversion, 
and in the very act of conversion, and in every 
period of the progress, however far advanced 
it may be, of the new creature in Jesus Christ 
our Lord. We speak just now of men, previ- 
ous to conversion, and we call to your remem- 
brance the example of John the Baptist. The 
injudicious way in which the doings of men 
have been spoken of, has had practically this 
effect on many an inquirer. Since doing is of 
so little consequence, let us even abstain from 
it. Now the forerunner of Christ spake a very 
different language. He unceasingly called up- 
on the people to do; and this was the very 
preaching which the divine wisdom appointed 



102 SERMON IV. 



as a preparation for the Saviour. "He that 
hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath 
none ; and he that hath meat, let him do like- 
wise."—" Exact no more than that which is ap- 
pointed." — " Do violence to no man ; neither 
accuse any falsely, and be content with your 
wages." Was not John, then, it may be said, 
a mere superficial reformer? Had he stopped 
short at this, he would have been no better. His 
teaching could have done no more than is done 
by the mere application of snow water. But 
he did not stop here. He told the people that 
there was a preacher, and a preaching to come 
after him, in comparison of which he and his 
sermons were nothing. He pointed the eye and 
the expectation of his hearers full upon one 
that was greater than himself; and, while he 
baptized with water unto repentance, and call- 
ed upon the people to frame their doings, he 
told them of one mightier than he, who was to 
t>aptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire. 

And, Secondly, That you may be convinced 
of the utter necessity of such a baptism, let us 
affirm the inadequacy of all the fairest virtues 
and accomplishments of nature. God has, for 
the well-being of society, provided man with 
certain feelings and constitutional principles of 
action, which lead him to a conduct beneficial 
to those around him ; to which conduct he may 
be carried by the impulse of these principles, 
with as little reference to the will of God, as a 
mother, among the inferior animals, when ^r>- 



SERMON IV. 



103 



strained by the sweet and powerful influences 
of natural affection, to guard the safety, and 
provide for the nourishment of her young. 
Take account of these principles as they exist 
in the bosom of man, and you there find compas- 
sion for the unfortunate ; the shame of detection 
in any thing mean, or disgraceful ; the desire 
of standing well in the opinion of his fellows ; 
the kindlier charities, which shed a mild and 
a quiet lustre over the walks of domestic life ; 
and those wider principles of patriotism and 
public usefulness which, combined with an ap- 
petite for distinction, will raise a few of the 
more illustrious of our race to some high and 
splendid career of beneficence. Now, these are 
the principles which, scattered in various pro- 
portions among the individuals of human kind, 
give rise to the varied hues of character among 
them. Some possess them in no sensible de- 
gree; and they are pointed at with abhorrence, 
as the most monstrous and deformed of the spe- 
cies. Others have an average share of them; 
and they take their station amongst the com- 
mon-place characters of society. And others 
go beyond the average; and are singled out 
from amongst their fellows, as the kind, the 
amiable, the sweet-tempered, the upright, 
whose hearts swell with honourable feeling, 
or whose pulse beats high in the pride of in- 
tegrity. 

Now, conceive for a moment, that the belief 
ef a God were to be altogether expunged from 



104 SERMON IV. 

the world. We have no doubt that society 
would suffer most painfully in its temporal inter- 
ests by such an event. But the machine of soci- 
ety might still be kept up ; and on the face of 
it you might still meet with the same gradations 
of character, and the same varied distribution 
of praise, among the individuals who compose 
it. Suppose it possible, that the world could 
be broken off from the system of God's adminis- 
tration altogether ; and that he were to consign 
it, with all its present accommodations, and all its 
natural principles, to some far and solitary place 
beyond the limits of his economy — we should still 
find ourselves in the midst of a moral variety of 
character; and man, sitting in judgment over 
it, would say of some, that they are good, and of 
others, that they are evil. Even in this desolate 
region of atheism, the eye of the sentimentalist 
might expatiate among beauteous and interest- 
ing spectacles,-amiable mothers shedding their 
graceful tears over the tomb of departed in- 
fancy; high-toned integrity maintaining itself 
unsullied amid the allurements of corruption ; 
benevolence plying its labours of usefulness ; 
and patriotism earning its proud reward, in the 
testimony of an approving people. Here, then, 
you have compassion, and natural affection, and 
justice, and public spirit — but would it not be 
a glaring perversion of language to say, that 
there was godliness in a world, where there 
was no feeling and no conviction about 
God ? 



SERMON IV. 105 

In the midst of this busy scene, let God re- 
veal himself, not to eradicate these principles 
of action — but giving his sanction to whatsoever 
things are just, and lovely, and honourable, and 
of good report, to make himself known, at the 
same time as the Creator and Upholder of all 
things, and as the Being with whom all his ra- 
tional offspring had to do. Is this solemn an- 
nouncement from the voice of the Eternal to 
make no difference upon them ? Are those prin- 
ciples which might flourish and be sustained on 
a soil of atheism, to be counted enough even af- 
ter the wonderful truth of a living and a reign- 
ing God has burst upon the world ? You are 
just ; — right, indispensably right. You say you 
have asserted no more than your own. But this 
property is not your own. He gave it to you, 
and he may call upon you to give to him an 
account of your stewardship. You are compas- 
sionate ; — right also. But what if he set up the 
measure of the sanctuary upon your compassion? 
and, instead of a desultory instinct, excited to 
feeling by a moving picture of sensibility, and 
limited in effect to a humble fraction of your ex- 
penditure, he call upon you to love your neigh- 
bour as yourself, and to maintain this principle 
at the expense of self-denial, and in the midst 
of manifold provocations ? You love your chil- 
dren;— still indispensably right. But what if he 
should say, and he has actually said it, that you 
may know how to give good gifts unto your chil- 
dren, and still be evil ? and that if you love fa- 

14 



106 



SERMON IV. 



ther, or mother, or wife, or children, more than 
him, jou are not worthy of him ? The lustre 
of your accomplishments dazzles the eye of 
your neighbourhood, and you bask with a de- 
lighted heart in the sunshine of glory. But 
what if he should say, that his glory, and not 
your own, should be the constant aim of your 
doings ? and that if you love the praise of 
men more than the praise of God, you stand, 
in the pure and spiritual records of heaven, 
convicted of idolatry ? You love the things of 
the world ; and the men of the world, coming 
together in judgment upon you, take no of- 
fence at it. But God takes offence at it He 
says, — and is he not right in saying ? — that if 
the gift withdraw the affections from the Giver, 
there is something wrong ; that the love of these 
things is opposite to the love of the Father ; and 
that, unless you withdraw your affections from a 
world that perisheth, you will perish along with 
it. Surely if these, and such like principles, 
may consist with the atheism of a world where 
God is unthought of, and unknown,— you 
stand convicted of a still deeper and more 
determined atheism, who, under the revela- 
tion of a God challenging the honour that is 
due unto his name, are satisfied with your 
holding in society, and live without him in the 
world. 



SERMON V. 



THE JUDGMENT OF MEN, COMPARED WITH THE 
JUDGMENT OF GOD. 



" With me it is a very small thing that I should be judge*! 
of you, or of man's judgment ; — he that judgeth me 
is the Lord." 1 Corinthians, 3, 4. 

III. When two parties meet together on the 
business of adjusting their respective claims, or 
when, in the language of our text, they come to- 
gether in judgment, the principles on which 
they proceed must depend on the relation in 
which they stand to each other ; and we know 
not a more fatal, or a more deep-laid delusion, 
than that by which the principles, applicable to 
the case of a man entering into judgment with 
his fellow-men, are transferred to the far differ- 
ent case of man's entering into judgment with 
his God. Job seems to have been aware of 
this difference, and at times to have been hum- 
bled by it. In reference to man, he stood on 
triumphant ground, and often spoke of it in a 



108 SERMON V. 



style of ^boastful vindication. No one could 
impeach his justice. No one could question his 
generosity. And he made his confident ap- 
peal to the remembrance of those around him, 
when he says of himself, that he delivered the 
poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him 
that had none to help him ; that the blessing of 
him that was ready to perish came upon him, 
and he caused the widow's heart to sing for joy; 
that he put on righteousness, and it clothed 
him, and his judgment was as a robe and a dia- 
dem; that he was eyes to the blind, and feet 
was he to the lame ; that he was a father to the 
poor, and the cause that he knew not, he 
Searched out. On these grounds did he chal- 
lenge the judgment of man, and actually ob- 
tained it. For we are told, because he did all 
this, that when the ear heard him, then it bless- 
ed him, and when the eye saw him, it gave wit- 
ness unto him. 

There is not a more frequent exercise of 
mind in society, than that by which the mem- 
bers of it form and declare their judgment of 
each other— and the work of thus deciding is a 
work which they all share in, and on which, 
perhaps, there is net a day of their lives 
wherein they are not called upon to expend 
some measure of attention and understanding — 
and we know not if there be a single topic 
that more readily engages the conversation of 
human beings — and often do we utter our 
own testimony, and hear the testimony of others 



SERMON V. 



109 



to the virtues and vices of the absent — and out 
of all this has arisen a standard of estimation — 
and it is such a standard as many may actually 
reach, and some have actually exceeded — and 
thus it is, that it appears to require a very ex» 
tended scale of reputation to take in all the 
varieties of human character — and while the 
lower extremity of it is occupied by the dis- 
honest, and the perfidious, and the glaringly 
selfish, who are outcasts from general respect ; 
on the higher extremity of it, do we behold 
men, to whom are awarded, by the universal 
voice, all the honours of a proud and unsullied 
excellence — and their walk in the world is dig- 
nified by the reverence of many salutations — 
and as we hear of their truth and their upright- 
ness, and their princely liberalities, and of a 
heart alive to every impulse of sympathy, and 
of a manner sweetened by all the delicacies of 
genuine kindness ; — Who does not see that, in 
this assemblage of moral graces and accomplish- 
ments, there is enough to satisfy man, and to 
carry the admiration of man ? and can we won- 
der if, while we gaze on so fine a specimen of 
our nature, we should not merely pronounce 
upon him an honourable sentence at the tri- 
bunal of human judgment, but we should con- 
ceive of him that he looks as bright and fault- 
less in the eye of God, and that he is in every 
way meet for his presence and his friendship 
in eternity ? 

Now, if there be any truth in the distinction 



110 



SERMON V. 



of our text; if a man may have the judgment 
of his fellows, and yet be utterly unfit for con- 
tending in judgment with God ; if there he 
any emphasis in the consideration, that he is 
God, and not man; or any delusion in conceiv- 
ing of him, that he is altogether like unto our- 
selves, — may not all that ready circulation of 
praise, and of acknowledgment, which obtains 
in society, carry a most ruinous, and a most be- 
witching influence along with it ? Is it not pos= 
sible that on the applause of man there may be 
reared a most treacherous self-complacency ? 
Might not we build a confidence before God. 
on this sandy foundation? Think you not,, that 
it is just this ill-supported confidence which 
shuts out from many a heart the humiliating 
doctrine of the gospel ? Is there no such ima- 
gination as that because we are so well able 
to stand our ground before the judgment of 
the world, we shall be equally well able to stand 
our ground before the judgment-seat of the 
great day ? Are there not many who, upon this 
very principle, count themselves rich and to 
have need of nothing ? And have you never 
met with men of character, and estimation in 
society, who, surrounded by the gratulations 
of their neighbourhood, find the debasing 
views of humanity, which are set before 
us in the New Testament, to be beyond their 
comprehension ; who are utterly in the dark, as 
to the truth and the justness of such represen- 
tations, and with whom the voice of God is 



• 



SERMON V. 



Ill 



therefore deafened by the voice and the testi- 
mony of men ? They see not themselves in that 
character of vileness and of guilt which he 
ascribes to them. They are blind to the prin- 
ciple of the text, that he is not a man ; and that 
they may not be able to answer him, though 
they may be able to meet the every reproach, 
and to hold out the lofty vindication against 
every charge, which any one of their fellows 
may prefer. And thus it is, that many live in 
the habitual neglect of a salvation which they 
cannot see that they require ; and spend their 
days in an insidious security, from which no- 
thing but the voice of the last messenger, or the 
call of the last trumpet, shall awaken them. 

To do away this delusion, we shall advert 
to two leading points of distinction between 
the judgment of men and that of God. There 
is a distinction founded upon the claims which 
God has a right to prefer against us, when com- 
pared with the claims which our fellow-men 
have a right to prefer against us • — and there is 
a distinction founded upon that clearer and 
more elevated sense which- God has of that 
holiness without which no man shall see his 
face, of that moral worth without which we are 
utterly unfit for the society of heaven. 

The people around me have no right to com- 
plain, if I give to every man his own; or, in other 
words, if I am true to all my promises, and faith- 
ful to all my bargains ; and if what! claim as jus- 
tice to myself, f most scrupulously render to 



112 



SERMON V. 



others, when they are in like circumstances with 
myself. Now, let me do all this, and I earn 
amongst my fellows, the character of a man of 
honour and of equity. Did I live with such a cha- 
racter in an unfallen world, these virtues would 
not at all signalize me, though the opposite vices 
w ould mark me out for universal surprise and 
indignation. But it so happens that I live in 
a world full of corruption, where deceit and 
dishonesty are common ; — where, though the 
higher degrees of them are spoken of with ab- 
horrence, the lower degrees of them are looked 
at with a very general connivance ;— where the 
inflexibility of a truth that knows not one art of 
concealment, and the delicacy of an honour 
that was never tainted, would greatly signalize 
me ; — and thus it is, that though I went not be- 
yond the strict requirements of integrity, yet 
by my nice and unvarying fulfilment of them, 
should I rise above the ordinary level of human 
reputation, and be rewarded by the most flat- 
tering distinctions of human applause. 

But again, 1 may in fact give to others more 
than their own ; and in so doingl may earn the 
credit of other virtues. I may gather an addi- 
tional lustre around my character, and collect 
from those around ine the tribute of a still 
louder and more rapturous approbation. I 
may have a heart constitutionally framed to the 
feeling and the exercise of compassion. 1 may 
scatter on every side of me the treasures of 
beneficence. I may have an eye for pity, and a 



SERMON V. 



113 



h^ind open as day for melting charity. I may 
lay aside a large proportion of my wealth to 
the service of others* — and what with a bosom 
open to every impulse of pity, and with an 
eye ever lighted up by the smile of courteous- 
ness. and with a ready ear to all that is offered 
in the shape of complaint or supplication, I 
may not go beyond the demands of others, but 
I may go greatly beyond all that they have a 
right to demand. — and if I signalized myself by 
rendering faithfully to every man his due,— 
still more shall I signalize myself by a kindness 
that is never weary, by a liberality that never 
is exhausted. 

Now, we need not offer to assign the precise 
degree to which a man must carry the exercise 
of these gratuitous virtues, ere he can obtain 
for them the good will, and the good opinion 
of society. We need not say by how small a 
fraction of his income, he may thus purchase 
the homage of his acquaintances, — at how r easy 
a rate he may send away one person delighted 
by his affability ; or another by the hospitality 
of his reception; or a third by the rendering of 
a personal service ; or a fourth by the direct 
conveyance of a present, — or, finally, for what 
expense he may surround himself by the grati- 
tude of many poor, and the blessings and the 
prayers of many cottages. We cannot bring 
forward any rigid computation of this matter. 
But we appeal to the experience of your own 
history, and to your observation of others, if a 
15 



SERMON V. 



man might not, without any painful, or any 
sensible surrender of enjoyment at all, stand out 
to the eye of others in a blaze of moral reputa- 
tion — if the substantial citizen might not, on 
the convivialities of friendship, be indulging his 
own taste, and at the very time be securing 
from his pleased and satisfied guests, the attes- 
tations of their cordiality — if the man of busi- 
ness might not be nobly generous to his friends 
in adversity, and at the same time be running 
one unvaried career of accumulation — if the 
man of society might not be charming every 
acquaintance by the truth and the tenderness 
of his expressions, and at the same time, instead 
of impairing, be heightening his share of that 
felicity, which the Author of our being has an- 
nexed to human intercourse — if a thousand 
little acts of accommodation from one neighbour 
to another, might not swell the tide of praise 
and of popularity, and yet, as ample a remain- 
der of pleasurable feeling be left to each as be- 
fore. — And even when the sacrifice is more 
painful, and the generosity more romantic, and 
man can appeal to some mighty reduction of 
wealth as the measure of his beneficence to 
others, might it not be said of him, if the life 
be more than meat, and the body than 
raiment, that still there is left to him more 
than he can possibly surrender? that, though he 
strip himself of all his goods to feed the poor, 
there remains to him that, without which all is 
nothingness, — that, a breathing and a conscious 



SERMON V. 



115 



man, he still treads on the face of our world, 
and bears his part in that universe of life, where 
the unfailing compassion of God still con- 
tinues to uphold him,-— that, instead of lying 
wrapt in the insensibility of an eternal grave, 
he has all the images of a waking existence 
around him, and all the glories of immortality 
before him, — that, instead of being withered to 
a thing of nought, and gone to that dark and 
hidden land, where all is silence and deep an- 
nihilation, a thousand avenues of enjoyment 
are still open to him, and the promise of a daily 
provision is still made sure, and he is free to all 
; he common blessings of nature, and he is freer 
still to all the consolations, and to all the pri- 
vileges of the gospel. 

Thus it appears that after I have fulfilled all 
the claims of men, and men are satisfied, — that 
after having gone, in the exercise of liberality, 
beyond these claims, and men are filled with 
delight and admiration, — that after, on the 
footing of equal and independent rights, I have 
come into judgment with my fellows, and they 
have awarded to me the tribute of their most 
honourable testimony, the footing on which i 
stand with God still remains to be attended to, 
and his claims still remain to be adjusted, — 
and the mighty account still lies uncancelled 
between the creature and the Creator, — be- 
tween the man who, in reference to his neigh- 
bours, can say, I give every one his own, and 
out of my own f expatiate in acts of tender- 



116 



SERMON V. 



ness and generosity amongst them, and the 
God who can say, You have nothing that you 
did not receive, and all you ever gave is out of 
the ability which I have conferred upon yoUj 
and this wealth is not your own, but his who 
bestowed it, and who now calls upon you to ren- 
der an account of your stewardship, — between 
the man, who has purchased by a fraction of his 
property, the good will of his acquaintances^ 
and the God who asserts his right to have every 
fraction of it turned into an expression of grati- 
tude, and devoted to his glory, — between the 
man who holds up his head in society, because 
his justice, and the ministrations of his liberali- 
ty, have distinguished him, and the God who 
demands the returns of duty and of acknow- 
ledgment, for giving him the fund of these 
ministrations, and for giving what no money 
can purchase, — for putting the principle of life 
into his bosom, — for furnishing him w ith all his 
senses, and, through these inlets of communica- 
tion, giving him a part, and a property, in all 
that is around him, — for sustaining him in all 
the elements of his being, and conferring upon 
him all his capacities, and all his joys. 

Now, what we wish you to feel is, that the 
judgment of men may be upon your side, and 
the judgment of God be most righteously 
against you — that, while from the one nothing 
is heard but admiration and gratitude, from the 
other, there may be such a charge of sinfulness, 
as, when set in order before your eye, will con- 



SERMON V 



117 



vince you, that he by whom you Consist, is 
defrauded of all his offerings, — that, while all the 
common honesties and humanities of social life, 
are acquitted to the entire satisfactionof others, 
and to the entire purity of your own reputation 
in the world, your whole heart and conduct 
may be utterly pervaded by the habit of ungod- 
liness, — that, while not one claim which your 
neighbours can prefer, is not met most readily, 
and discharged most honourably, the great 
claims of the Creator, over those whom he has 
formed, may lie altogether unheeded ; and he, 
your constant benefactor, be not loved, — and 
he, your constant preserver, be not depended 
on, — and he, your most legitimate sovereign, 
be not obeyed, — and he, the unseen Spirit, who 
pervades all, and upholds all, be neither wor- 
shipped in spirit and in truth, nor vested with 
the hold of a rightful supremacy over your re- 
bellious affections. 

God is not man : nor can we measure what 
is due to him, by what is due to our fellows in 
society. He made us, and he upholds us, and 
at his will the life which is in us, will, like the 
expiring vapour, pass away; and the taberna- 
cle of the body, that curious frame-work which 
man thinks he can move at his own pleasure, 
when it is only in God that he moves, as well 
as life's, and has his being, will, when abandon- 
ed by its spirit, mix with the dust out of which 
it was formed, and enter again into the uncon- 
scious glebe from which it was taken. It was. 



118 



SERMON V. 



indeed, a wondrous preferment for unshapen 
clay to be wrought into so fine an organic struc- 
ture, but not more wondrous surely than that the 
soul which animates it should have been creat- 
ed out of nothing ; and what shall we say, if 
the compound being so originated, and so sus- 
tained, and depending on the will of another for 
every moment of his continuance, is found to 
spurn the thought of God, in distaste and disaf- 
fection away from him? When the spirit returns 
to him who sitteth on the throne; when the 
question is put, Amid all the multitude of your 
doings in the world, what have you done unto 
me? When the rightful ascendency of his 
claims over every movement of the creature is 
made manifest by him who judge th righteously; 
when the high but just pretensions of all things 
being done to his glory ; of the entire heart be- 
ing consecrated in everyone of its regards to his 
person and character; of the whole man being 
set apart to his service, and every compromise 
being done away, between the world on the one 
hand, and that Being on the other, who is jea- 
lous of his honour : — when these high preten- 
sions are set up and brought into comparison 
with the character and the conduct of any one 
of us, and it be inquired in how far we have 
rendered unto God the ever-breathing grati- 
tude that is due to him, and that obedience 
which we should feel at all times to be our 
task and our obligation; how shall we fare in 
that great day of examination, if it be found 



SERMON V. 



119 



that this has not been the tendency of our na- 
ture at all? and when he who is not a man 
shall thus enter into judgment with us, how 
shall we be able to stand ? 

Amid all the praise we give and receive from 
each other, we may have no claims^ to that sub- 
stantial praise which cometh from God only. 
Men may be satisfied, but it followeth not that 
God is satisfied. Under a ruinous delusion 
upon this subject, we may fancy ourselves to 
be rich, and have need of nothing, while, in 
fact, we are naked, and destitute, and blind, 
and miserable. And thus it is, that there is a 
morality of this world, which stands in direct 
opposition to the humbling representations of 
the Gospel ; which cannot comprehend what it 
means by the utter worthlessness and depravity 
of our nature ; which passionately repels this 
statement, and that too on its own consciousness 
of attainments superior to those of the sordid, 
and the profligate, and the dishonourable ; and 
is fortified in its resistance to the truth as it is 
in Jesus, by the flattering testimonials which it 
gathers to its respectability and its worth from 
the various quarters of human society. 

A just sense of the extent of claim which 
God has upon his own creatures, would lay open 
this hiding-place of security; would lead us to 
see, that to do some things for our neighbours, is 
not the same with doing all things for our Ma- 
ker ; that a natural principle of honesty to man, 
is altogether distinct from a principle of entire 



120 



SERMON V. 



devotedness to God ; that the tithe which we 
bestow upon others is not an equivalent for a to- 
tal dedication unto God of ourselves, and of all 
which belongs to us; that we may present those 
around us with many an offering of kindness, and 
not present our bodies a living sacrifice to God, 
which is our reasonable service ; that we may 
earn a cheap and easy credit for such virtues as 
will satisfy the world, and be utter strangers to 
the self-denial, and the spirituality,and the morti- 
fication, of every earthly desire,and the affection 
for the things that are above ; — all of which 
graces enter as essential ingredients into the 
sanctification of the gospel. 

But this leads us to the second point of dis- 
tinction between the judgment of man and 
that of God, — even his clearer and more ele- 
vated sense of that holiness without which no 
man shall see his face, and of that moral worth 
without which we are utterly unfit for the 
society of heaven. 

Man's sense of the right and the wrong may 
be clear and intelligent enough, in so far as that 
part of character is concerned which renders 
us fit for the society of earth. Those virtues, 
without which a community could not be held 
together, are both urgently demanded by that 
community, and highly appreciated by it. The 
morality of our earthly life, is a morality which 
is in direct subservience to our earthly accom- 
modation; and seeing that equity, and humanity, 
and civility, are in such visible and immediate 



SERMON V, 



121 



connexion with all the security, and all the en- 
joyment which they spread around them, it is 
not to be wondered at, that they should throw 
over the character of him by whom they are 
exhibited, the lustre of a grateful and a superior 
estimation. And thus it is, that even without 
any very nice or exquisite refinement of these 
virtues, many an ordinary character will pass; — 
and should that character be deformed by the 
levities, or even by the profligacies of intem- 
perance, he who sustains it may still bear his 
part among the good men of society, — and keep 
away from it all that malignity, and all that dis- 
honesty, which have a disturbing effect on the 
enjoyments of others, and these others will still 
retain their kindliness for the good-humoured 
convivialist, — and he will be suffered to retain 
his own taste, and his own peculiarities ; and, 
though it may be true, that chastity, and self- 
control, and the severer virtues of personal dis- 
cipline and restraint, would in fact give a far 
more happy and healthful tone to society than 
at present it possesses, yet this influence is not 
so conspicuous, and heedless men do not look 
so far : and therefore it is, that in spite of his 
many outward and positive transgressions of 
the divine law, many an individual can be re- 
ferred to, who, with his average share of the in- 
tegrities and the sensibilities of social life, has 
stamped upon him the currency of a very fair 
every-day character, who moves among his fel- 
lows without disgrace, and meets with accept- 
16 



122 



SERMON V. 



ance throughout the general run of this worlds 
companies. 

If such a measure of indulgence be extended 
to the very glaring iniquities of the outer man, 
let us not wonder though the errors of the 
heart, the moral diseases of the spirit, the dis- 
organize tion of the inner man, with its turbu- 
lent passions, and its worldly affections, and its 
utter deadness to the consideration of an over- 
ruling God, should find a very general indul- 
gence among our brethren of the species. 
Bring a man to sit in judgment over the de- 
pravities of our common nature, and unless these 
depravities are obviously pointed against the 
temporal good of society, what can we expect, 
but that he will connive at the infirmities of 
which he feels himself to be so large and so 
habitual a partaker ? What can we expect but 
that his moral sense, clouded as it is against the 
discernment of his own exceeding turpitude, 
will also perceive but dimly, and feel but ob- 
tusely, a similar turpitude in the character of 
others? What else can we look: for, than that 
the man who fires so promptly on the reception 
of an injury, will tolerate in his fellow all the 
vindictive propensities ? — or, that the man who 
feels not in his bosom a single movement of 
principle or of tenderness towards God, will to- 
lerate in another an equally entire habit of un- 
godliness? — or,that the man who surrenders him- 
self to the temptations of voluptuousness, will 
perceive no enormity of character at all in the 



SERMON V. 



123 



unrest bed dissipations of an acquaintance:* — 
And, in a word, when f see a man whose rights 
I have never invaded, who has no complaint of 
personal wrong or provocation to allege agaiast 
me, and who shares equally with myself in na- 
ture's blindness and nature's propensities, 1 will 
not be afraid of entering into judgment with 
him; — nor shall I stand in awe of any penetrating 
glance from his eye, of any indignant remon- 
strance from his offended sense of what is right- 
eous, though there be made bare to his inspec- 
tion all my devotedness to the world, and all 
my proud disdain at the insolence of others, 
and all my anger at the sufferings of injustice, 
and all my indifference to the God who formed 
me, and all those secrecies of an unholy and an 
unheavenly character, which are to be brought 
out into full manifestation on the great day of 
the winding up of this world's history. 

It is a very capital delusion that God is like 
unto man, — " Thou thoughtest that I was alto- 
gether such a one as thyself ; but I will reprove 
thee, and set thy sins in order before thine eyes. 
Now consider this, ye that forget God, lest 1 
tear you in pieces, and there be none to de- 
liver." 

Man and man may come together in judg- 
ment, and retire from each other in mutual 
complacency. But when man and God thus 
come together, theise is another principle, and 
another standard of examination. There is a 
claim of justice on the part of the Creator, to- 



124 



SERMON V. 



tally distinct from any claim which a fellow 
creature can prefer, — and while the one will 
tolerate all that is consistent with the economy 
and the interest of the society upon earth, the 
other can tolerate nothing that is inconsistent 
with the economy and the character of the 
society in heaven. God made us for eter- 
nity. He designed us to be the members of a 
family which never separates, and over which 
he himself presides in the visible glory of all 
that worth, and of all that moral excellence, 
which belong to him. He formed us at first 
after his own likeness ; and ere we can be re- 
admitted into that paradise from which we 
have been exiled, we must be created anew 
in the image of God. These spirits must be 
made perfect, and every taint of selfishness and 
impurity be done away from them. Heaven 
is the place into which nothing that is unclean 
or unholy can enter ; and we are not preparing 
for our inheritance there, unless there be gath- 
ering upon us liere, the lineaments of a celes- 
tial character Now, a man may be accomplish- 
ed in the moralities of civil and of social life, 
without so much as the semblance of such a 
character resting upon him. He may have no 
share whatsoever in the tastes, or in the enjoy- 
ments, or in the affections of paradise. There 
might not be a single trace of the mark of the 
Lamb of God upon his forehead. He who 
ponders so intelligently the secrets of the heart, 
may be able to discover there no vestige of any 



SERMON V. 



125 



love for himself, — no sensibility at all to what 
is amiable or to what is great in the character 
of the Godhead, — no desire whatever after his 
glory,— no such feeling towards him who is to 
tabernacle with men, as will qualify him to bear 
a joyful part in the songs, and the praises of 
that city which has foundations. Surrounded as 
he is by the perishable admiration of his fellows, 
he is altogether out of affection, and out of ac- 
quaintance, with that Being with whom he has 
to do ; and it will be found, on the great day 
of the doings, and the deliberations of the judg- 
ment-seat, that as he had no relish for God in 
time, so is he utterly unfit for his presence, or 
for his friendship in eternity. 

It is said of God, that he created man after 
his own image, and it was upon losing this 
image that he was cast out of paradise : and ere 
he can be again admitted, the image that has 
been lost must again be formed on him. The 
grand qualification for the society of heaven is, 
that each of its members be like unto God. 
In the selfish and sensual society of earth, 
there is many a feature of resemblance to the 
Godhead that is most readily dispensed with ; 
and many an individual here obtains ap- 
plause and toleration among his fellows, though 
there is not one attribute of the saintly character 
belonging to him. Let him only fulfil the stipu- 
lations of integrity, and smile benignity upon 
his friends, and render the alacrity of willing 
and valuable services to those who have never 



126 SERMON V. 



offended him, and on the strength of such per- 
formances as these, may he rise to a conspicu- 
ous place in the scale of this world's reputation. 
But what would have been the sad event to us? 
had these been the only performances which 
went to illustrate the character of the Godhead, 
had he been a God of whom we could say no 
more, than that he possessed the one attribute 
of an unrelenting justice, or even that he went 
beyond this attribute, in the exercise of kind- 
ness to those who loved him, and in acts of 
beneficence to those who had never offended 
him ? Do we not owe our place and our pro- 
spect to the love of God for his enemies ? Is it 
not from the riches of his forbearance and long- 
suffering, that we draw all our enjoyments in 
time, and all our hopes for eternity ? Is it not 
because, though grieved with sinners every 
day, he still waits to be gracious ; that he holds 
out to us, his heedless and wayward children, 
the beseeching voice of reconciliation; and 
puts on such an aspect of tenderness to those 
who have not ceased from their birth to vex his 
Holy Spirit, and to thwart him every hour by 
the perverseness of their disobedience ? This 
is the godlike attribute on which all the pri- 
vileges of our fallen race are suspended ; and 
yet against the imitation of which, nature, when 
urged by the provocations of injustice, rises in 
such a tumult of strong and impetuous resist- 
ance. It is through the putting forth of this 
attribute, that any redeemed sinners are to be 



SERMON V. 



127 



tbund among the other society of heaven ; but 
into which no member shall be admitted out of 
this corrupt world, till there be stamped and 
realized on his own person, that feature of the 
divinity to which he owes a distinction so ex- 
alted. And tell us, ye men who are so jealous 
of right and of honour, who take sudden fire at 
every insult, and suffer the slightest imagina- 
tion of another's contempt, or another's un- 
fairness, to chase from your bosom every feel- 
ing of complacency ; — ye men whom every fan- 
cied affront puts into such a turbulence of 
emotion, and in whom every fancied infringe- 
ment stirs up the quick and the resentful ap- 
petite for justice — how will you stand the ri- 
gorous application of that test by which the 
forgiven of God are ascertained, even that the 
spirit of forgiveness is in them, and by which 
it will be pronounced whether you are indeed 
the children of the highest, and perfect as your 
Father in heaven is perfect ? 

But we must hasten to a close, and will there- 
fore, barely suggest some other matters of self- 
examination. We ask you, to think of the fa- 
cility with which you might obtain the appro- 
bation of men, without being at all like unto 
God in the holiness of his character. We ask 
you to think of the delight which he takes in 
the contemplation of what is pure, and moral, 
and righteous. We ask you to think how one 
great object of his creation, was to diffuse over 
the face of it a multiplied resemblance of him- 



12fr 



SERMON V. 



self, — and that, therefore, however fit you may 
be for sustaining your part in the alienated 
community of this world, you are most as- 
suredly unfit for the great and the general as- 
sembly of the spirits of just men made perfect, 
if unlike unto God who is in the midst of them, 
you have no congenial delight with the Father 
of all, in the contemplation of spiritual excel- 
lence. Now, are you not blind to the glories 
and the perfections of that Being who realises 
this excellence to a degree that is infinite? 
Does not the creature fill up all your avenues 
of enjoyment, while the Creator is forgotten ? 
In reference to God, is there not an utter dull- 
ness and insensibility of all your regards to 
him ? If thus blind to the perception of that 
supreme virtue and lovliness which reside in 
the Godhead, are you not, in fact, and by na- 
ture an outcast fromthe Godhead? And an out- 
cast will you ever remain, until your character 
be brought under some mighty revolutionizing 
influence, which is able to shift the currency of 
your desires, and to over-rule nature with all her 
obstinate habits, and all her lond and favourite 
predilections. 

These are topics of great weight and great 
pregnancv ; but we leave them to your own 
thoughts, and only ask you at present to look 
at the vivid illustration of them that may be 
gathered out of the history of Job. In reference 
to his fellows,he could make a triumphant appeal 
to the honour and the humanity which adorn- 



•SERMON V. 



m 



ed him, he could speak of the splendid career 
of beneficence that he had run,-=-and, in the re- 
collection of the plaudits that had surrounded 
him, he could boldly challenge the inspection of 
all his neighbours, and of all his enemies, on the 
whole tract of his visible history in the world. 
He protested his innocence before them, and 
even so long as he had only heard of God by 
the hearing of the ear, did he address him in 
the language of justification. But when God 
at length revealed himself,™ when the worth 
and the majesty of the Eternal stood before 
him in visible array, — -when the actual presence 
of his Maker brought the claims of his Maket 
to bear impressively upon his conscience, it 
was not merely the presence of the power of 
God which overawed him ; it was the presence 
of the righteousness of God which convinced 
him,— -and when, from the bright assemblage 
of all that was pure, and holy, and graceful in 
the aspect of the Divinity, he turned the eye 
of contemplation downward upon himself,— -G 
it is instructive to be told, how the vaunting 
patriarch shrunk into r all the depths of self- 
abasement at so striking a manifestation ; and 
how he said, " I have heard of thee by the hear^ 
ing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee ; 
wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust 
and in ashes." 

It is indeed a small matter to be judged of 
man's judgment. He who judges us is God, 
From this judgment there is no escape and hq 
17 



130 



SERMON V. 



hiding-place. The testimony of our fellow? 
will as little avail us in the day of judgment, as 
the help of our fellows will avail us in the hour 
of death. We may as well think of seeking a re- 
fuge in the applause of men, from the condem- 
nation of God, as we may think of seeking a 
refuge in the power or the skill of men, from 
the mandate of God, that our breath shall de- 
part from us. And, have you never thought, 
when called to the chamber of the dying man, — 
when you saw the warning of death upon his 
countenance, and how its symptoms gathered 
and grew, and got the ascendency over all the 
ministrations of human care and of human ten- 
derness, — when it every day became more vi- 
sible, that the patient was drawing to his close, 
and that nothing in the whole compass of art 
or any of its resources, could stay the advances 
of the sure and the last malady, — have you 
never thought, on seeing the bed of the sufferer 
surrounded by other comforters than those of 
the Patriarch, — when, from morning to night, 
and from night to morning, the watchful family 
sat at his couch, and guarded his broken slum- 
bers, and interpreted all his signals, and tried 
to hide from his observation the tears which 
attested him to be the kindest of parents,— 
when the sad anticipation spread its gloomy 
btillness over the household, and even sent 
forth an air of seriousness and concern upon the 
men of other families, — when you have witness- 
ed the despair of friends, who could only turn 



vSERMON V. 



131 



them to cry at the spectacle of his last agonies, 
and had seen how little it was that weeping 
children and inquiring neighbours could do for 
him, — when you have contrasted the unrelent- 
ing necessity of the grave, with the feebleness 
of every surrounding endeavour to ward it, has 
the thought never entered within you ? How 
powerless is the desire of man !— -how sure and 
how resistless is the decree of God ! 

And on the day of the second death, will it be 
found, that it is not the imagination of man, but 
the sentence of God that shall stand. When the 
sound of the last trumpet awakens us from the 
grave, and the ensigns of the last day are seen 
on the canopy of heaven, and the tremor of the 
dissolving elements is felt upon earth, and the 
Son of God with his mighty angels are placed 
around the judgment-seat, and the men of all 
ages and of all nations are standing before it, 
and waiting the high decree of eternity,— then 
will it be found, that as no power of man can 
save his felic from going down to the grave 
of mortality, so no testimony of man can save 
his fellow from going down to the pit of con- 
demnation. Each on that day will mourn 
apart. Each of those on the left hand, en- 
grossed by his own separate contemplation, and 
overwhelmed by the dark and the louring fu- 
turity of his own existence, will not have a 
thought or a sympathy to spare for those who 
are around him. Each of those on the right 
hand will see and acquiesce in the righteous- 
ness of God, and be made to acknowledge, 



in 



SERMON Ve 



that those things which are highly esteemed 
among men are in his sight an abomination 
When the Judge and his attendants shall come 
ori the high errand of this world's destinies* 
they will come from God, — and the pure prin- 
ciple they shall bring along with them from the 
sanctuary of heaven, will be the entire subor- 
dination of the thing forhred to him who form- 
ed it. In that praise which upon earthly feel- 
ings the creatures offer one to another, we be- 
hold no recognition of this principle whatever ; 
and therefore it is, that it is so very different 
from the praise which cometh from God only 
And should any one of these creatures be made 
on that great day of manifestation, to see his 
hakedness,--should the question, what have you 
done imto me ? leave! him speechless ; should at 
lengthy convicted of his utter rebelliousness 
against God, he try to hnd among the compa- 
nions ot his pilgrimage, some attestation to the 
kindliness that beamed fr om him upon his fel- 
low mortals in the world, — they will not be able 
to hide him from the Coming wrath. In the face 
of all the tenderness they ever bore him, the se- 
verity of an unreconciled lawgiver must have 
upon him its resistless operation, They may 
all bear witness to the honour and the gener- 
osity of his doings among men^ but there is not 
One of them who can justify him before God. 
Nor airiong all those who now yield him a ready 
testimony on earth will he find a day's-man be- 
twixt him and his Creator, who can lay his 
hand upon them both, 



SERMON VL 



fim NECESSITY OF A MEDIATOR BETWEEN CJC>tl 
.^ND MAN. 



Neither is there any day's-man betwixt us that might lay 
his hand upon us both." Job ix. 33* 



IV. The feeling of Job, at the time of his ut- 
tering the complaint which is recorded in the 
verses before us, might not have been altoge-* 
ther free of a reproachful spirit towards those 
friends who had refused to advocate his cause^ 
and who had even added bitterness to his dis^ 
tress by their most painful and unwelcome argu-^ 
ments. And well may it be our feeling, and that 
too without the presence of any such ingredient 
along with it— that there is not a man upon 
earth who Can execute the office of a day's-man 
betwixt us and God, — that taking the common 
sense of this term, there is none who can act as 
an umpire between us the children of ungodli- 
ness, and the Lawgiver, w hom We have so deep- 
ly offended ; or taking up the term that occurs 
in the Septuagint version of the Bible, that 



134 SERMON VI. 



amongst all our brethren of the species, not an 
individual is to be found who, standing in the 
place of a mediator, can lay his hand upon us 
both. It is indeed very possible, that all this 
may carry *the understanding, and at the same 
time have all the inefficiency of a cold and gen- 
eral speculation. But should the Spirit, whose 
office it is to convince us of sin, lend the pow- 
er of his demonstration to the argument,— 
should he divide asunder our thoughts, and en- 
able us to see that, with the goodly semblance 
of what is fair and estimable in the sight of 
man, all within us is defection from the princi- 
ple of loyalty to God, — that while we yield a 
duty as the members of society, the duty that 
lies upon us, as the creatures of the Supreme 
Being, is, in respect of the spirit of allegiance 
which gives it all its value, fallen away from, by 
every one of us, — should this conviction cleave 
to us like an arrow sticking fast, and work its 
legitimate influence, in causing us to feel all the 
worthlessness of our characters, and all the 
need and danger of our circumstances, — then 
would the urgency of the case be felt as well as 
understood by us, — nor should we be long of 
pressing the inquiry of where is the day's- 
man betwixt us that might lay his hand upon 
us both? 

And, in fact, by putting the Mediator away 
from you, — by reckoning on a state of safety 
and acceptance without him, what is the 
ground upon which, in reference to God, you 



SERMON VL 



135 



actually put yourselves ? We speak not at pre- 
sent of the danger of persisting in such an atti- 
tude of independence, — of its being one of 
those refuges of treachery in which the good 
man of the world is often to be found, — of its 
being a state wherein peace, when there is no 
peace, lulls him by its flatteries into a deceitful 
repose. We are not at present saying how ruin- 
ous it is to rest a security upon an imposing exte- 
rior, when in fact the heart is not right in the 
sight of God, and while the reproving eye of him, 
who judgeth not as man judgeth, is upon him, 
or how poisonous is the unction that comes 
upon the soul from those praises which upon the 
mere exhibition of the social virtues, are rung 
and circulated through society. But, in addition 
to the danger, let us insist upon the guilt of thus 
casting the offered Mediator away from us. It 
implies, in the most direct possible way, a senti- 
ment of the sufficiency of our own righteous- 
ness. It is expressly saying of our obedience, 
that it is good enough for God. It is presump- 
tuously thinking that what pleases the world 
may please the Maker of it, even though 
he himself has declared it to be a world 
lying in wickedness. There is an aggrava- 
tion you will perceive in all this which goes 
beyond the simple infraction of the command- 
ment. It is, after the infraction of it, challeng- 
ing for some remainder or for some semblance 
of conformity, the reward and approbation of 
the God whose law we have dishonoured. ft 



136 



SERMON VI. 



is, after we have braved the attribute of the Al- 
mighty's justice, by incurring its condemnation, 
making an attempt upon the attribute itself, by 
bringing it down to the standard of a polluted 
obedience. It is, after insulting the throne 
of God's righteousness, embarking in the still 
deadlier enterprise of demolishing all the stabi- 
lities which guard it ; and spoiling it of that truth 
which has pronounced a curse on the children 
of iniquity, — of that holiness which cannot dwell 
with evil, — of that unchangeableness which w ill 
admit of no compromise with sinners that can 
violate the honours of the Godhead, or weaken 
the authority of his government over the uni- 
verse that he has formed. It is laying those 
paltry accomplishments which give you a place 
of distinction among your fellow s, before that 
God of whose throne justice and judgment are 
the habitation, and c ailing upon him to connive 
at all that you want, and to look with complacen- 
cy on all that you possess. It is to bring to the 
bar of judgment the poor and the starving sam- 
ples of virtue which are current enough in a world 
broken loose from its communion with God, and 
to defy the inspection upon them of God's eter- 
nal Son, and of the angels he brings along w ith 
him to witness the righteousness of his decisions. 
Sin has indeed been the ruin of our nature — but 
this refusal of the Saviour of sinners lands them 
in a perdition still deeper and more irrecover- 
able. It is blindness to the enormity of sin. It 
is equivalent to a formally announced senti- 



SERMON VI. 



137 



ment on your part that jour performances, sin- 
ful as they are. and polluted as they are, are 
good enough for heaven. It is just saying of 
the offered Saviour, that you do not see the 
use of him. It is a provoking contempt of 
mercy ; and causing the measure of ordinary 
guilt to overflow, by heaping the additional 
blasphemy upon it, of calling upon God to ho- 
nour it by his rewards, and to look to it with 
the complacency of his approbation. 

We cannot, then, we cannot draw near unto 
God, by a direct or independent approach to 
him. And who, in these circumstances, is fit to 
be the dayVman betwixt you? There is not a 
fellow-mortal from Adam downward, who has 
not sins of his own to answer for. There is not 
one of them who has not the sentence of guilt 
inscribed upon his own forehead. and who is not 
arrested by the same unsealed barrier which 
keeps you at an inaccessible distance fromGod. 
There is not one of them whose entrance into 
the holiest of all would not inflict on it as great 
a profanation, as if any of you were to present 
yourselves before him, who dwelleth there, 
without a Mediator. There lieth a great gulf 
between God and the whole of this alienated 
world : and after looking round amongst all the 
men of all its generations, we maysay,in the lan- 
guage of the text, that there is not a day's-man 
betwixt us who can lay his hand upon us both* 
What we aim at, as the effect of all these ob- 
servations, is, that you should feel your only se« 
18 



138 



SERMON VI. 



curity to be in the revealed and the offered 
Mediator ; that you should seek to him as your 
only effectual hiding-place; and who alone, in 
the whole range of universal being, is able to lay 
his hand upon you, and shield you from the jus- 
tice of the Almighty, and to lay his hand upon 
God, and stay the fury of the avenger. By him 
the deep atonement has been rendered. By him 
the mystery has been accomplished, which an- 
gels desired to look into. By him such a sacri- 
fice for sin has been offered, as that, in the ac- 
ceptance of the sinner, every attribute of the 
Divinity is exalted ; and the throne of the Ma- 
jesty in the heavens, though turned into a throne 
of grace, is still upheld in all its firmness, and 
in all its glory. Through the unchangeable 
priesthood of Christ, the vilest of sinners may 
draw nigh, and receive of that mercy which has 
met with truth, and of that peace which is in 
close alliance with righteousness ; and without 
one perfection of the Godhead being surren- 
dered by this act of forgiveness, all are made 
to receive a higher and more wondrous mani- 
festation ; for though he will by no means clear 
the guilty, yet there is no place for vengeance^ 
when all their guilt is cleared away by the 
blood of the everlasting covenant ; and though 
he executeth justice upon the earth, yet he can 
be just while the justifier of them who believe 
in Jesus. 

The work of our redemption is every where- 
spoken of as an achievement of strength — as 



SERMON VI. 13.9 

done by the putting forth of mighty energies — 
as the work of one who, travailing in his own 
unaided greatness, had to tread the wine-press 
alone ; and who, when of the people there was 
none to lielp him, did by his own arm bring 
unto him salvation. To move aside the ob- 
stacle which beset the path of acceptance; 
to reinstate the guilty into favour with the of- 
fended and unchangeable Lawgiver ; to avert 
from them the execution of that sentence to 
which there were staked the truth and justice 
of the Divinity ; to work out a pardon for the 
disobedient, and at the same time to uphold in 
all their strength the pillars of that throne 
which they had insulted ; to intercept the de- 
fied penalties of the law, and at the same time 
to magnify it, and to make it honourable ; thus 
to bend, as it were, the holy and everlasting 
attributes of God, and in doing so, to pour 
over them the lustre of a high and awful 
vindication,— this was an enterprise of such 
height, and depth, and breadth, and length, 
as no created being could fulfil, and which 
called forth the might and the counsel of him 
who is the power of God, and the wisdom of 
God. 

When no man could redeem his neighbour 
from the grave,— God himself found out a ran- 
som. When not one of the beings whom he had 
formed could offer an adequate expiation, — did 
the Lord of hosts awaken the sword of ven- 
geance against his fellow. When there was no 



140 



SERMON VI. 



messenger among the angels who surrounded 
his throne, that could both proclaim and pur- 
chase peace for a guilty world, — did God mani- 
fest in the flesh descend in shrouded majesty 
amongst our earthly tabernacles, and pour out 
ilis soul unto the death for us, and purchase 
the church by his own blood, and bursting away 
from the grave which could not hold him, as- 
cend to the throne of his appointed mediator- 
ship ; and now he, the first and the last, who 
was dead and is alive, and maketh intercession 
for transgressors, is able to save to the utter- 
most all who come unto God through him ; and 
standing in the breach between a holy God and 
the sinners who have offended him, does he 
make reconciliation, and lay his hand upon 
them both. 

But it is not enough that the Mediator be 
appointed by God, — he must be accepted by 
man. And to incite our acceptance does he 
hold forth every kind and constraining argu- 
ment. He casts abroad, over the whole face of 
the world, one wide and universal assurance of 
welcome. " Whosoever cometh unto me shall 
not be cast out." " Come unto me all ye who la- 
bour and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest." " Where sin hath abounded, grace hath 
much more abounded." " Whatsoever ye ask in 
my name ye shall receive." The path of access 
to Christ is open and free of every obstacle, 
which kept fearful and guilty man at an im- 
practicable distance from the jealous and un- 



SERMON VI. 



141 



pacified Lawgiver. He hath put aside the ob- 
stacle, and now stands in its place. Let us 
only go in the way of the Gospel, and we shall 
find nothing between us and God but the au- 
thor and finisher of the Gospel, — who, on the 
one hand, beckons to him the approach of 
man, with every token of truth and of tender- 
ness ; and, on the other hand, advocates our 
cause with God, and fills his mouth with argu- 
ments, and pleads that very atonement which 
was devised in love by the Father, and with the 
incense of which he was well pleased, and 
claims, as the fruit of the travail of his soul, all 
who put their trust in him ; and thus laying his 
hand upon God, turns him altogether from the 
fierceness of his indignation. 

But Jesus Christ is something more than the 
agent of our justification, — he is the agent of 
our sanctification also. Standing between us 
and God, he receives from him of that Spirit 
which is called the promise of the Father, and 
he pours it forth in free and generous dispen- 
sation on those who believe in him. Without 
this spirit there may, in a few of the goodlier 
specimens of our race, be within us the play 
of what is kindly in constitutional feeling, and 
without us the exhibition of what is seemly in 
a constitutional virtue ; and man, thus standing 
over us in judgment, may pass his verdict of 
approbation • and all that is visible in our doings 
may be pure as by the operation of snow water. 
But the utter irreligiousness of our nature will 



142 



SERMON VI. 



remain as entire and as obstinate as ever. The 
alienation of our desires from God will persist 
with unsubdued vigour in our bosoms ; and sin. 
in the very essence of its elementary principle, 
will still lord it over the inner man with all 
the power of its original ascendency, — till the 
deep, and the searching, and the pervading in- 
fluence of the love of God be shed abroad in 
our hearts by the Holy Ghost. This is the work 
of the great Mediator. This is the might and 
the mystery of that regeneration, withoutwhich 
we shall never see the kingdom of God. This 
is the office of Him to whom all power is com- 
mitted, both in heaven and in earth, — who. 
reigning in heaven, and uniting its mercy with 
its righteousness, causes them to flow upon 
earth in one stream of celestial influence ; and 
reigning on earth, and working mightily in the 
hearts of its people, makes them meet for the 
society of heaven, — thereby completing the 
wonderful work of our redemption, by which, 
on the one hand, he brings the eye of a holy 
God to look approvingly on the sinner, and,, 
on the other hand, makes the sinner fit for the 
fellowship, and altogether prepared for the en- 
joyment of God. 

Such are the great elements of a sinner's re- 
ligion. But if you turn from the prescribed 
use of them, the wrath of God abideth on you. 
* If you kiss not the Son while he is in the way, 
you provoke his anger, and when once it begins 
to burn, they only are blessed who have put 



SERMON VI. 



143 



their trust in him. If, on the fancied sufficien- 
cy of a righteousness that is without godliness, 
you neglect the great salvation, you will not 
escape the severities of that day, when the 
Being with whom you have to do shall en- 
ter with you into judgment ; and it is only by 
fleeing to the Mediator, as you wduld from a 
coming storm, that peace is made between you 
and God, and that, sanctified by the faith which 
is in Jesus, you are made to abound in such 
fruits of righteousness, as shall be to praise and 
glory at the last and the solemn reckoning. 

Before we conclude, we shall just advert to 
another sense, in which the Mediator between 
God and man may be affirmed to have laid his 
hand upon them both : — He fills up that mys- 
terious interval which lies between every cor- 
poreal being, and the God who is a spirit and 
is invisible. 

No man hath seen God at any time, — and 
the power which is unseen is terrible. Fancy 
trembles before its own picture, and supersti- 
tion throws its darkest imagery over it. The 
voice of the thunder is awful, but not so awful 
as the conception of that angry Being who sits 
in mysterious concealment, and gives it all its 
energy. In these sketches of the imagination, 
fear is sure to predominate. We gather an im- 
pression of Nature's God, from those scenes 
where Nature threatens, and looks dreadful 
We speak not of the theology of the schools, 
ind the empty parade of it^ demonstrations. 



144 SERMON VI. 



W e speak of the theology of actual feeling,— 
that theology which is sure to derive its lessons 
from the quarter whence the human heart de- 
rives its strongest sensations, — and we refer both 
to your own feelings, and to the history of this 
world's opinions, if God is more felt or more 
present to your imaginations in the peacefulness 
of spring, or the loveliness of a summer land- 
scape, than when winter with its mighty ele- 
ments sweeps the forest of its leaves, — when the 
rushing of the storm is heard upon our win- 
dows, and man flees to cover himself from the 
desolation that walketh over the surface of the 
world. 

If nature and her elements be dreadful, how 
dreadful that mysterious and unseen Being, 
who sits behind the elements he has formed, and 
gives birth and movement to all things ! It is 
the mystery in which he is shrouded, — it is 
that dark and unknown region of spirits, where 
he reigns in glory, and stands revealed to the 
immediate view of his worshippers, — it is the 
inexplicable manner of his being so far removed 
from that province of sense, within which the 
understanding of man can expatiate, — it is its 
total unlikeness to all that nature can furnish 
to the eye of the body, or to the conception of 
the mind which animates it, — it is all this 
which throws the Being who formed us at a 
distance so inaccessible.— which throws an im- 
penetrable mantle over his way, and gives us 
the idea of some dark and untrodden interval 



SERMON VI. 



14. 



betwixt the glory of God, and all that is visible 
and created. 

Now, Jesus Christ has lifted up this myste- 
rious veil, or rather he has entered within it, 
He is now at the right hand of God ; and though 
the brightness of his Father's glory, and the ex- 
press image of his person, he appeared to us in 
the palpable characters of aman; and those high 
attributes of truth, and justice, and mercy, which 
could not be felt or understood, as they existed 
in the abstract and invisible Deity, are brought 
down to our conceptions in a manner the most 
familiar and impressive, by having been made, 
through Jesus Christ, to flow in utterance from 
.human lips, and to beam in expressive phy- 
siognomy from a human countenance. 

So long as I had nothing before me but the 
unseen spirit of God, my mind wandered in 
uncertainty, my busy fancy was free to expatiate, 
and its images filled my heart with disquietude 
and terror. But in the life, and person, and histo- 
ry of Jesus Christ, the attributes of the Deity are 
brought down to the observation of the senses ; 
and I can no longer mistake them, when in the 
Son, who is the express image of his Father, I 
see them carried home to my understanding by 
the evidence and expression of human organs, — 
when I see the kindness of the Father, in the 
tears which fell from his Son at the tomb of 
Lazarus, — when I see his justice blended with 
liis mercy, in the exclamation, " O Jerusalem, 
Jerusalem," by Jesus Christ; uttered with a tone 

19 



146 



SERMON VI. 



more tender than the sympathy of human bosom 
ever prompted, while he bewailed the sentence 
of its desolation,— and in the look of energy 
and significance which he threw upon Peter, I 
feel the judgment of God himself, flashing con- 
viction upon my conscience, and calling me to 
repent while his wrath is suspended, and he 
still waiteth to be gracious. 

And it was not a temporary character which 
he assumed. The human kindness, and the 
human expression which makes it intelligible 
to us, remained with him till his latest hour. 
They survived his resurrection, and he has 
carried them along with him to the mysterious 
place which he now occupies. How do I 
know all this ? I know it from his history ; 
I hear it in the parting words to his mother 
from the cross ; I see it in his unaltered form 
when he rose triumphant from the grave; I 
perceive it in his tenderness for the scruples of 
the unbelieving Thomas; and I am given to 
understand, that as his body retained the im- 
pression of his own sufferings, so his mind re- 
tains a sympathy for ours, as warm, arid gra- 
cious, and endearing, as ever. We have a 
Priest on high, who is touched with a fellow 
feeling of our infirmities. My soul, unable to 
support itself in its aerial flight among the 
spirits of the invisible, now reposes on Christ, 
who stands revealed to my conceptions in the 
figure, the countenance, the heart, the sympa- 
thies of a man. He has entered within that 



SERMON VI. 



147 



veil which hung over the glories of the Eternal ; 
and the mysterious inaccessible throne of God 
is divested of all its terrors, when I think that 
a friend who bears the form of the species, and 
knows its infirmities, is there to plead for me. 



SERMON VII. 



THE FOLLY OF MEN MEASURING THEMSELVES BY 
THEMSELVES. 



2 Corinthians x. 12. 

" For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or com- 
pare ourselves with some that commend themselves ; but 
they, measuring themselves by themselves, and compar- 
ing themselves among themselves, are not wise." 

St. Paul addressed these words to the mem- 
bers of a Christian congregation ; and were we 
to confine their application to those people of 
the present day, who, in circumstances, bear 
the nearest resemblance to them, we would, hi 
the present discourse, have chiefly to do with 
the more serious and declared professors of 
the Gospel. Nor should we be long at a loss 
for a very observable peculiarity amongst them, 
against which to point the admonition of the 
Apostle. For, in truth, there is a great dispo- 
sition with the members of the religious world, 
to look away from the unalterable standard of 



SERMON VII. 



149 



God's will, and to form a standard of authority 
out of the existing attainments of those whom 
they conceive to be in the faith. W e know 
nothing that has contributed more than this to 
reduce the tone of practical Christianity. We 
know not a more insidious security, than that 
which steals over the mind of him who, when 
he looks to another of eminent name for godli- 
ness, or orthodoxy, and perceives in him a cer- 
tain d egree of conformity to the world, or a cer- 
tain measure of infirmity of temper, or a certain 
abandonment of himself to the natural enjoy- 
ments of luxury, or of idle gossiping, or of com- 
menting with malignant pleasure on the faults 
and failings of the absent, thinks, that upon 
such an example, it is safe for him to allow in 
himself an equal extent of indulgence ; and to 
go the same lengths of laxity or transgression; 
and thus, instead of measuring himself by the 
perfect law of the Almighty, and making con- 
formity to it the object of his strenuous aspir- 
ings, — does he measure himself and compare 
himself with his fellow-mortals, — and pitches 
his ambition to no greater height than the ac- 
cidental level which obtains amongst the mem- 
bers of his own religious brotherhood, and 
finds a quiet repose in the mediocrity of their 
actual accomplishments, and of their current 
and conventional observations. 

There is much in this consideration to alarm 
many of those who, within the pale of a select 
and peculiar circle, look upon themselves as 



150 



SERMON Ml 



firmly seated in an enclosure of safety. They 
may be recognised by the society around them, 
as one of us ; and they may keep the even pace 
of acquirement along with them ; and they may 
wear all those marks of distinction which se- 
parate them from the general and unprofessing 
public ; and, in respect of Church, and of sa- 
crament, and of family observances, and of ex- 
clusive preference for each other's conversa- 
tion, and of meetings for prayer and the other 
exercises of Christian fellowship, they may 
stand most decidedly out from the world, and 
most decidedly in with those of their own cast 
and their own denomination ; — and yet, in fact, 
there may be individuals, even of such a body 
as this, who, instead of looking upwards to the 
Being with whom they have to do, are looking 
no farther than to the testimony and example 
of those who are immediately around them; 
who count it enough that they are highly es- 
teemed among men ; who feel no earnestness, 
and put forth no strength in the pursuit of a 
lofty sanctification ; who are not living as in 
the sight of God, and are not in the habit of 
bringing their conduct into measurement with 
the principles of that great day, when God's 
righteousness shall be vindicated in the eyes 
of all his creatures; who, satisfied, in short, 
with the countenance of the people of their 
own communion, come under the charge of my 
text, that measuring themselves by themselves, 
and comparing themselves among themselves, 
they are not wise. 



SERMON VII. 



151 



Now, though this habit of measuring ourselves 
by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among 
ourselves, be charged by the Apostle, in the 
text, against the professors of a strict and pe- 
culiar Christianity ; it is a habit so universally 
exemplified in the world, and ministers such a 
deep and fatal security to the men of all cha- 
racters who live in it, and establishes in their 
hearts so firm a principle of resistance against 
the humbling doctrines of the New Testament, 
that we trust we shall be excused if- we leave 
out, for a time, the consideration of those who 
are within the limits of the Church, and dwell 
on the operation of this habit among those who 
are without these limits ; and going beyond 
that territory of observation to which the words 
now read would appear to restrict us, we shall 
attend to the effects of that principle in human 
nature which are there adverted to, in as far as 
it serves to fortify the human mind against an 
entire reception of the truths and the overtures 
of the Gospel. 

It may be remarked, by way of illustration, 
that the habit condemned in the text is an 
abundant cause of that vanity which is founded 
on a sense of our importance. If, instead 
of measuring ourselves by our companions and 
equals in society, we brought ourselves into 
measurement with our superiors, it might go 
far to humble and chastise our vanity. The 
rustic conqueror on some arena of strength or 
of dexterity, stands proudly elevated among 



152 



SERMON VII. 



his fellow-rustics who are around him. Place 
him beside the returned warrior, who can tell of 
the hazards, and the achievements, and the des- 
perations of the great battle in which he had 
shared the renown and the danger ; and he will 
stand convicted of the humility of his own per- 
formances. The man who is most keen, and, at 
the same time, most skilful in the busy politics 
of his corporation, triumphs in the conscious- 
ness of that sagacity by which he has baffled 
and overpowered the devices of his many anta- 
gonists. But take him to the high theatre of 
Parliament, and bring him into fellowship with 
the man who has there won the mighty game of 
superiority, and he will feel abashed at the in- 
significance of his own tamer and homelier pre- 
tensions. The richest individual of the district 
struts throughout his neighbourhood in all the 
glories of a provincial eminence. Carry him to 
the metropolis of the empire, and he hides his 
diminished head under the brilliancy of rank 
far loftier than his own, and equipage more 
splendid than that by which he gathers from his 
surrounding tributaries, the homage of a re- 
spectful admiration. The principle of all this , 
vanity was seen by the discerning eye of the 
Apostle. It is put down for our instruction in 
the text before us. And if we, instead of look- 
ing to our superiority above the level of our 
immediate acquaintanceship, pointed an eye 
of habitual observation to our inferiority be- 
neath the level of those in society who were 



SERMON VIL 



153 



more dignified and more accomplished than 
ourselves, — such a habit as this might shed a 
graceful humility over our characters, and 
save us from the pangs and the delusions of a 
vanity which was not made for man. 

And let it not be said of those, who, in the 
more exalted walks of life, can look to few or to 
none above them, that they can derive no benefit 
from the principle of my text, because they are 
placed beyond the reach of its application. It is 
true of him who is on the very pinnacle of hu- 
man society, that standing sublimely there, he 
can cast a downward eye on all the ranks and 
varieties of the world. But, though in the act 
of looking beneath him to men, he may ga- 
ther no salutary lesson of humility — the lesson 
should come as forcibly upon him as upon any 
of his fellow mortals, in the act of looking 
above him to God. Instead of comparing him- 
self with the men of this world, let him leave 
the world and expatiate in thought over 
the tracks of immensity, — let him survey the 
mighty apparatus of worlds scattered in such 
profusion over its distant regions ; let him bring 
the whole field of the triumphs of his ambition 
into measurement with the magnificence that is 
above him. and around him, — above all, let him 
rise through the ascending series of angels, and 
principalities, and powers, to the throne of the 
august Monarch on whom all is suspended,— 
and then will the lofty imagination of his 
20 



SERMON Vil. 



heart be cast down, and all vanity die within 
him. 

Now, if all this be obviously true of that va- 
nity which is founded on a sense of our impor- 
tance, might it not be as true of that compla- 
cency which is founded on a sense of our 
worth ? Should it not lead us to suspect the 
ground of this complacency, and to fear lest a 
similar delusion be misleading us into a false 
estimate of our own righteousness ? When we 
feel a sufficiency in the act of measuring our- 
selves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves 
among ourselves, is it not the average virtue of 
those around us that is the standard of measure- 
ment ? Do we not at the time, form our estimate 
of human worth upon the character of man as 
it actually is, instead of forming it upon the 
high standard of that pure and exalted law 
which tells us what the character ought to be ? 
Is it not thus that many are lulled into security, 
because they are as good or better than their 
neighbours ? This may do for earth, but the 
question we want to press is, will it do for Hea- 
ven ? It may carry us through life with a fair 
and equal character in society, and even when 
we come to die, it may gain us an epitaph 
upon our tombstones. But after death cometh 
the judgment; and in that awful day when 
judgment is laid to the line and righteous- 
ness to the plummet, every refuge of lies will 
be swept away, and every hiding-place of se- 
curity be laid open. 



SERMON VII. 



155 



Under the influence of this delusion, thou- 
sands and tens of thousands are posting their 
infatuated way to a ruined and undone eternity. 
The good man of society lives on the applause 
and cordiality of his neighbours. He compares 
himself with his fellow-men ; and their testimony 
to the graces of his amiable, and upright, and 
honourable character, falls like the music of 
paradise upon his ears. And it were also the 
earnest of paradise, if these his flatterers and ad- 
mirers in time were to be his judges in the day 
of reckoning. But, alas ! they will only be his 
fellow-prisoners at the bar. The eternal Son of 
God will preside over the solemnities of that 
day. He will take the judgment upon him- 
self, and he will conduct it on his own lofty 
standard of examination, and not on the maxims 
or the habits of a world lying in wickedness. 
O ye deluded men ! who carry your heads so 
high, and look so safe and so satisfied amid the 
limooth and equal measurements of society, -do 
you ever think how you are to stand the admea- 
surement of Christ and of his angels ? and think 
you that the fleeting applause of mortals, sinful 
as yourselves, will carry an authority over the 
mind of your j udge, or prescribe to him that so- 
lemn award which is to fix you for eternity ? 

In the prosecution of the following discourse, 
let us first attempt to expose the folly of mea- 
suring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing 
ourselves amongst ourselves; and then point out 
the wisdom opposite to this folly, which is re- 
commended in the gospel. 



SERMON VH; 



1. The folly of measuring ourselves by our- 
selves is a lesson which admits of many illus- 
trations. The habit is so universal, it is so 
strikingly exemplified, even among the most 
acknowledged outcasts from all that is worthy, 
and all that is respectable in general estimation. 
There is not a congregated mass of human be- 
ings, associated in one common pursuit, or 
brought together by one common accident, 
among whom there is not established either 
some tacit or proclaimed morality, to the obser- 
vance of which, orto the violation of which, there 
is awarded admiration or disgrace, by the voice 
of the society that is formed by them. You 
cannot bring two or more human beings to act 
in concert without some conventional principle 
of right and wrong arising out of it, which 
either must be practically held in regard, or the 
concert is dissipated. And yet it may be al- 
together a concert of iniquity. It may be a 
concert of viliany and injustice against the 
larger interests of human society. It may be a 
banded conspiracy against the peace and the 
property of the commonwealth : and there may 
not be a member belonging to it who does not 
carry the stamp of outlawry upon his person, 
and who is not liable, and righth liable, to the 
penalties of an outraged government, against 
which he is bidding, by the whole habit of his 
life, a daily and systematic defiance. And yet 
even among such a class of the species as this, 
an enlightened observer of our nature will not 



SERMON VII. 



157 



fail to perceive a standard of morality, both re- 
cognized and acted upon by all its individuals, 
and in reference to which morality, there actu- 
ally stirs in many a bosom amongst them a very 
warm and enthusiastic feeling of obligation, — 
and some will you find, who, by their devoted 
adherence to its maxims, earn among their com- 
panions all the distinctions of honour and of vir- 
tue,—- and others who, by falling away from the 
principles of the compact, become the victims 
of a deep and general execration. And thus 
may the very same thing be perceived with 
them, thai we see in the more general society 
of mankind— -a scale of character, and, corres- 
ponding to it, a scale of respectability, along 
which the members of the most wicked and 
worthless association upon earth may be ran- 
ged according to the gradation of such virtues 
as are there held in demand, and in reverence ; 
and thus there will be a feeling of complacency, 
and a distribution of applause, and a conscious 
superiority of moral and personal attainment, 
and all this grounded on the habit of measuring 
themselves by themselves, and comparing 
themselves amongst themselves. 

The first case of such an exhibition which 
we offer to your notice, comes so aptly in for 
the purpose of illustration, that homely and fa- 
miliar as it is, we cannot resist the introduction 
of it. We allude to the case of smugglers. 
These men, in as far, at least, as it respects one 
tie of allegiance, may be considered as com,- 



158 



SERMON VII. 



pletely broken loose from the government of 
their country. They have formed themselves 
into a plot against the interests of the public re- 
venue, and it maybe generally said of them, that 
they have no feeling whatever of the criminality 
of their undertaking. On this point there is ut- 
terly wanting the sympathy of any common prin- 
ciple between the administrators of the law and 
the transgressors of the law,— and yet it would 
be altogether untrue to nature and to experi- 
ence to say of the latter, that they are entire 
strangers to the feeling of every moral obliga- 
tion. They have a very strong sense of ob- 
ligation to each other. There are virtues 
amongst them which serve to signalize certain 
members, and vices amongst them which doom 
to infamy certain other members of their own 
association. In reference to the duties which 
they owe to government, they may be dead to 
every impression of them. But in reference 
to those duties, on the punctual fulfilment of 
which depends the success, or even the conti- 
nuance, of their system of operations, they may 
be most keenly and sensitively alive. They 
may speak of the informer who has abandoned 
them, with all the intensity of moral hatred and 
contempt; and of the man, again, who never 
once swerved from his fidelity; of the man, 
who, with all the notable dexterity of his eva- 
sions from the vigilance that was sent forth to 
track and to discover him, was ever known to 
be open as day amongst the members of his 



SERMON VH. 159 

own brotherhood ; of the man, who, with the 
unprincipledness of a most skilful and syste- 
matic falsehood, in reference to the agents and 
pursuers of the law, was the most trusty, and 
the most incorruptible, in reference to his fel- 
lows of the trade ; of the man who stands high- 
est amongst them in all the virtues of pledged 
and sworn companionship; — why, of such a 
man will these roving mountaineers speak in 
terms of honest and heart-felt veneration : and 
nothing more is necessary, in order to throw a 
kind of chivalric splendour over him, than just 
to be told, along with his inflexible devotedness 
to the cause, of his heardy adventurers, and 
his hair-breadth miracles of escape, and his 
inexhaustible resources, and of the rapidity of 
his ever-suiting and ever-shifting contrivances, 
and of his noble and unquelled spirit of daring, 
and of the art and activity by which he has 
eluded his opponents, and of the unfaltering 
courage by which he has resisted them. We 
doubt not, that even in the history of this igno- 
minious traffic, there do occur such deeds and 
characters of unrecorded heroism; and still the 
men who carry it on, measuring themselves by 
themselves, may never think of the ignominy. 
They will enjoy the praise they have one of 
another, and care not for the distant blame 
that is cast upon them by the public voice. 
They will carry in their bosoms the swelling 
consciousness of worth, and be regaled by the 
home testimonv of those who ar^ about them : 



1 



160 



SERMON VIL 



and all this at the very time when, to the ge- 
neral community, they offer a spectacle of odi~ 
ousness; all this at the very time, when the 
power and the justice of an incensed govern- 
ment are moving forth upon them. 

But another case still more picturesque, and. 
what is far better, still more subservient to the 
establishment of the lesson of our text, may be 
taken from another set of adventurers, hardier, 
and more ferocious, and more unprincipled 
than the former. We allude to the men of rapine; 
and who, rather than that their schemes of ra- 
pine should be frustrated, have so far overcome 
all the scruples and all the sensibilities of na- 
ture, that they have become men of blood. They 
live as commoners upon the world; and at 
large from those restraints, whether of feeling 
or of principle, which hold in security together 
the vast majority of this world's families, they 
are looked at by general society with a revolt- 
ing sense of terror and of odiousness. And yet, 
among these monsters of the cavern, and prac- 
tised as they are in all the atrocities of the high- 
way, will you find a virtue of their own, and a 
high-toned morality of their own. Living as 
they do, in a state of emancipation from the law 
universal, still there is among them a lawisoteri- 
cal,in doing homage to which, the hearts of these 
banditti actually glow with the movements of 
honourable principle; and the path of their con- 
duct is actually made to square with the confor- 
mities of right and honourable practice. Ex- 



SERMON Vll 161 

traordinary as you may think it, the very habit 
@f my text is in full operation among these very 
men, who have wandered so far from all that is 
deemed righteous in society ; and disowning, 
as they do, our standard of principle altogether, 
they have a standard among themselves, on 
which they can adjust a scale of moral estima- 
tion, and apply it in every exercise of judg- 
ment on the character of each individual who 
belongs to them. In reference to every devia- 
tion that is made by them from the general stan- 
dard of right, there is an entire obliteration of 
all their sensibilities,~and this is not the ground 
on which they ever think either of reproaching 
themselves, or of casting any imputation of dis- 
grace on their companions. But, in reference 
to their own particular standard of right, they 
are all awake to the enormity of every *act of 
transgression against it, — and thus it is, that 
measuring themselves by themselves, and com- 
paring themselves amongst themselves, there is 
just with them as varied a distribution of praise 
and of obloquy as is to be met with on the face 
of any regular and well-ordered commonwealth, 
And who, we would ask, is the man among all 
these prowling outcasts of nature, on whom the 
law of his country would inflict the most un- 
relenting vengeance ? He who is most sig- 
nalized by the moralities of his order, — he 
who has gained by fidelity, and courage, and 
disinterested honour, the chieftainship of con- 
fidence and affection amongst them ; — he, the 

21 



SERMON VII. 



foremost of ali the desperadoes, on whose cha- 
racter perhaps the romance of generosity and 
truth is strangely blended with the stern bar- 
barities of his calling, — and who, the most 
admired among the members of his own bro- 
therhood, is, at the same time, the surest to 
bring down upon his person all the rigours and 
all the severities of the judgment-seat. 

Let us now follow with the eye of our ob- 
servation, a number of these transgressors into 
another scene. Let us go into the place 
of their confinement ; and, in this receptacle of 
many criminals, with all their varied hues of 
guilt and of depravity, we shall perceive the 
habit of my text in full and striking exem- 
plification. The murderer stands lower in the 
scale of character than the thief. The first is 
worse than the second — and you have only to 
reverse the terms of the comparison, that you 
may be enabled to say how the second is better 
than the first. Thus, even in this repository of 
human worthlessness, we meet with gradations 
of character ; with the worse and the better and 
the best ; with an ascending and a descending 
scale, which runs in continuity, from, the one 
who stands upon its pinnacle, to the one who 
is the deepest and most determined in wicked- 
ness amongst them. It is utter ignorance of 
our nature to conceive that this moral gradation 
is not fully and frequently in the minds of the 
criminals themselves, — that there is not, even 
here, the habit of each measuring himself with 



SERMON Vlf. 



163 



his fellow-prisoners around him, and of some 
-oothed by the consciousness of a more un- / 
tainted character, and rejoicing over it with a 
feeling of secret elevation. They, in truth, 
know themselves to be the best of their kind,— 
and this knowledge brings a complacency along 
with it, — and, even in this mass of profligacy, 
there swells and kindles the pride of superior 
attainments. But there is at least one delusion, 
from which one and all of them stand exempt- 
ed. The very best of them, how r ever much he 
may be regaled by the inward sense of his 
advantage over others, knows, that in reference 
to the law, he is not on a footing of merit, but 
on a footing of criminality, — knows, that though 
he will be the most gently dealt with, and that 
on him the lightest penalty will fall, yet still he 
stands to his judge and to his country, in the re- 
lation of a condemned malefactor — feels, how 
preposterous it were, if, on the plea of being the 
most innocent of the whole assemblage, he was to 
claim, not merely exemption from punishment, 
but the reward of some high and honourable 
distinction at the hands of the magistrate. He 
is fully aware of the gap that lies between him 
and the administrators of justice, — is sensible, 
that though he deserves to be beaten with 
fewer stripes than others, yet still, that, in the 
e ve of the law, he deserves to be beaten : and 
that he stands at as hopeless a distance, as the 
most depraved of his fellows, from a sentence 
of complete justification. 



164 



SERMON VII. 



Let us, last of all, go along with these male- 
factors to the scene of their banishment. Let us 
view them as the members of a separated com- 
munity ; and we shall widely mistake it, if we 
think, that in the settlement of New South 
Wales, there is not the same shading of moral 
variety, there is not the same gradation of cha- 
racter, there is not the same scale of reputation^ 
there is not the same distribution of respect* 
there is not the same pride of loftier principle, 
and debasement of more shameful and abandon- 
ed profligacy, there is not the same triumph of 
conscious superiority on the one hand, and the 
same crouching sense of unworthiness on the 
other, which you find in the more decent, and 
virtuous, and orderly society of Europe. Within 
the limits of this colony there exists a tribunal 
of public opinion, from which praise and po- 
pularity, and reproach, are awarded in various 
proportions among all the inhabitants. And 
without the limits of this colony there exists 
another tribunal of public opinion, by the 
voice of which an unexcepted stigma of exclu- 
sion and disgrace is cast upon every one of 
them. Insomuch, that the same individual may, 
by a nearer judgment, be extolled as the 
best and the most distinguished of all who are 
around him, — and, by a more distant judgment, 
he may have all the ignominy of an outcast 
laid upon his person and his character. He 
may, at one and the same time, be regaled by 
the applause of one society, and held in right- 



SERMON VII. 165 



ful execration by another society. In the for- 
mer, he may have the deference of a positive 
regard rendered to him for his virtues, — while, 
from the latter he is justly exiled by the hate- 
ful contamination of his vices. And in him do 
we behold the instructive picture of a man, 
who, at the bar of his own neighbourhood, stands 
the highest in moral estimation, — while, at a 
higher bar, he has had a mark of foulest igno- 
miny stamped upon him. 

We want not to shock the pride or the deli- 
cacy of your feelings. But, on a question so high 
as that of your eternity, we want to extricate 
you from the power of every vain and bewilder- 
ing delusion. We want to urge upon you the 
lesson of Scripture, that this world differs from 
a prison house, only in its being a more spa- 
cious receptacle of sinners, — and that there is 
not a wider distance, in point of habit and of 
judgment, between a society of convicts, and 
the general community of mankind, than there 
is between the whole community of our species, 
and the society of that paradise, from which, 
under the apostacy of our fallen nature, we have 
been doomed to live in dreary alienation. We 
refuse not to the men of our world the posses* 
sion of many high and honourable virtues : but 
let us not forget, that amongst the marauders 
of the highway, we hear too of inflexible faith* 
and devoted friendship, and splendid genero- 
sity. We deny not, that there exist among our 
species, as much truth and as much honesty. 



166 SERMON VII 



as serve to keep society together : but a mea- 
sure of the very same principle is necessary? 
in order to perpetuate and to accomplish the 
end of the most unrighteous combinations. We 
deny not, that there flourishes on the face of 
our earth a moral diversity of hue and of cha- 
racter, and that there are the better and the 
best who have signalized themselves above the 
level of its general population : but so it is in 
the malefactor's dungeon, and as there, so here, 
may a positive sentence of condemnation be 
the lot of the most exalted individual We 
deny not, that there are many in every neigh- 
bourhood, to whose character, and whose worth, 
the cordial tribute of admiration is awarded ; 
but the very same thing may be witnessed 
amongst the outcasts of every civilized ter- 
ritory, — and what they are, in reference to the 
country from which they have been exiled, we 
may be, in reference to the whole of God's un- 
fallen creation. In the sight of men we may 
be highly esteemed, — and we may be an abomi- 
nation in the sight of angels. We may receive 
homage from our immediate neighbours for all 
the virtues of our relationship with them, — 
while our relationship with God may be utterly 
dissolved, and its appropriate virtues may nei- 
ther be recognized nor acted on. There may 
emanate from our persons a certain beauteous- 
ness of moral colouring on those who are around 
us, — but when seen through the universal mo- 
rality of God's extended and all-pervading^ 



SERMON VII. 167' 



government, we may look as hateful as the out- 
casts of felony, — and living, as we do, in a re- 
bellious province, that has broken loose from 
the community of God's loyal and obedient 
worshippers, we may, at one and the same time, 
be surrounded by the cordialities of an ap- 
proving fellowship, and be frowned upon by 
the supreme judicatory of the universe. At 
one and the same time, we may be regaled by 
the incense of this world's praise, and be the 
objects of Heaven's most righteous execration. 

But is this the real place, it may be asked, 
that our world occupies in the moral universe 
of God ? The answer to this question may be 
obtained either out of thehistoricalinformations 
of Scripture, or out of a survey that may be 
made of the actual character of man, arid a com- 
parison that may be instituted between this 
character and the divine law. We can conceive 
nothing more uniform and more decisive than 
the testimony of the Bible, when it tells us 
that however fair some may be in the eyes of 
men, yet that all are guilty before God ; that 
in his eyes none are righteous, no not one; that 
he, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, 
finds out iniquity in every one of us ; that there 
is none who understandeth, and none who 
seeketh after God; that however much we 
may compare ourselves amongst ourselves, and 
found a complacency upon the exercise, yet 
that we have altogether gone out of the way ; 
ftfrt however distinctly we may retain, even in 



168 • SERMON Vlt 

the midst of this great moral rebellion, our re* 
lative superiorities over each other, there is a 
wide and a general departure of the species 
from God ; that one and all of us have deeply 
revolted against him ; that the taint of a most 
inveterate spiritual disease has overspread all 
the individuals of all the families upon earth ; 
insomuch, that the heart of man is deceitful 
above all things and desperately wicked, and 
the imaginations of his thoughts are only evil, 
and that continually. 

The fall of Adam is represented, in the Bi- 
ble, as that terribly decisive event, on which 
took place this deep and fatal unhingement of 
the moral constitution of our species. From 
this period the malady has descended, and the 
whole history of our world gives evidence to 
its state of banishment from the joys and the 
communications of paradise. Before the en- 
trance of sin did God and man walk in sweet 
companionship together, and saw each other 
face to face in the security of a garden. A lit- 
tle further down in the history, we meet with 
another of God's recorded manifestations. We 
read of his descent in thunder upon mount Si- 
nai. O what a change from the free and fear- 
less intercourse of Eden! God, though sur- 
rounded by a people whom he had himself se- 
lected, here sits, if we may^use the expression, 
on a throne of awful and distant ceremony; 
and the lifting of his mighty voice scattered 
dismay among the thousands of Israel. When 



SERMON VIL 169 



he looked now on the children of men, he 
looked at them with an altered countenance. 
The days were, when they talked together in 
the lovely scenes of paradise as one talketh with 
a friend. But, on the top of Sinai, he wraps 
himself in storms, and orders to set bounds about 
the mount, lest the people should draw near, 
and God should break forth upon them. 

But we have an evidence to our state of ba- 
nishment from God , which is nearer home. We 
have it in our own hearts. The habitual atti- 
tude of the inner man is not an attitude of sub- 
ordination to God. The feeling of allegiance 
to him is practically and almost constantly away 
from us. All that can give value to our obedi- 
ence, in the sight of an enlightened Spirit who 
looks to motive, and sentiment, and principle, 
has constitutionally no place, and no residence 
in our characters. We are engrossed by other 
anxieties than anxiety to do the will, and to pro- 
mote the honour, of him who formed us. We 
are animated by other affections altogether, 
than love to him, whose right hand preserves 
us continually. That Being by whom we are 
so fearfully and wonderfully made ; whose up- 
holding presence it is that keeps us in life, and 
in movement, and in the exercise of all our 
faculties ; who has placed us on the theatre of 
all our enjoyments, and claims over his own 
creatures the ascendency of a most rightful 
authority ; — that surely is the Being with whom 
we have to do. And yet, when we take ac- 

22 



170 



SERMON VIL 



count of our thoughts and of our doings, how 
little of God is there ! In the random play and 
exhibition of such feelings as instinctively be- 
long to us, we may gather around us the admi- 
ration of our fellows : and so it is in a colony 
of exiled criminals. But as much wanting 
there, as is the homage of loyalty to the go- 
vernment of their native land ; so much want- 
ing here, is the homage of any deference or 
inward regard, to the government of Heaven. 
And yet this is the very principle of all that 
obedience, which Heaven can look upon. If 
it be true that no obedience is rewardable by 
God, but that which has respect unto God, 
then this must be the essential point on which 
hinges the difference between a rebel, and a 
loyal subject to the supreme Lawgiver. The 
requirement we live under is to do all things 
to his glory; and this is the measure of prin- 
ciple and of performance that will be set over 
you : and tell us, ye men of civil and relative 
propriety, who, by exemplifying in the eye of 
your fellows such virtue, as may be exemplified 
by the outcasts of banishment, have shed around 
your persons the tiny lustre of this world's mo- 
ralities ; tell us, how you will be able to stand 
such a severe and righteous application? The 
measure by which we compare ourselves with 
ourselves, is not the measure of the sanc- 
tuary. When the judge comes to take account 
of us, he will come fraught with the maxims 
of a celestial jurisprudence, and his question. 



SERMON VII. 



171 



will be, not, what hare you done at the shrine 
of popularity, — not, what have ycu done to sus- 
tain a character amongst men, — not, what have 
you done at the mere impulse of sensibilities 
however amiable, or of native principles however 
upright, and elevated, and manly, — but what 
have you done unto me ? how much of God, 
and of God's will, was there in the principle of 
your doings ? This is the heavenly measure, 
and it will set aside all your earthly measures 
and comparisons. It will sweep away all these 
refuges of lies The man whose accomplish- 
ments of character, however lively, were all so- 
cial, and worldly, and relative, will hang his head 
in confusion when the utter wickedness of his 

Ml 

pretensions is thus laid open, — when the God 
who gave him every breath, and endowed him 
with every faculty, inquires after his share of 
reverence and acknowledgment, — when he 
tells him from the judgment-seat, I was the 
Being with whom you had to do, and yet in 
the vast multiplicity of your doings, I was sel- 
dom or never thought of. — when he convicts 
him of habitual forgetfulness of God, and set- 
ting aside all the paltry measurements which 
men apply in their estimates of one another, he 
brings the high standard of Heaven's law, and 
Heaven's allegiance to bear upon them. 

It must be quite palpable to any man who 
has seen much of life, and still more if he has 
travelled extensively, and witnessed the varied 
complexions of morality that obtain in distant 



172 SERMON VIL 



societies,— -it must be quite obvious to such a 
man, how readily the moral feeling, in each of 
them, accommodates itself to the general state 
of practice and observation,- — that the practices 
of one country, for which there is a most com- 
placent toleration, would be shuddered at as 
so many atrocities in another country, — that in 
every given neighbourhood, the sense of right 
and of wrong, becomes just as fine or as obtuse 
as to square with its average purity, and its 
average humanity, and its average uprightness, 
— that what would revolt the public feeling of a 
retired parish in Scotland as gross licentious- 
ness or outrageous cruelty, might attach no dis- 
grace whatever to a residenter in some colonic 
al settlement, — that, nevertheless, in the more 
corrupt and degraded of the two communities, 
there is a scale of differences, a range of cha- 
racter, along which are placed the comparative 
stations of the disreputable, and the passable, 
and the respectable, and the superexcellent ; 
and yet it is a very possible thing, that if a 
man in the last of these stations were to import 
all his habits and all his profligacies into his 
native land, superexcellent as he may be 
abroad, at home he would be banished from 
the general association of virtuous and well 
ordered families. Now all we ask of you is, 
to transfer this consideration to the matter be- 
fore us, — to think how possible a thing it is, 
that the moral principle of the world at large, 
may have sunk to a peaceable and approving 



SERMON VII. 173 

acquiescence in the existing practice of the 
world at large, — that the security which is in- 
spired by the habit of measuring ourselves by 
ourselves, and comparing ourselves amongst 
ourselves, may therefore be a delusion altoge- 
ther, — that the very best member of society 
upon earth, may be utterly unfit for the society 
of heaven, that the morality which is current 
here, may depend upon totally another set of 
priniples from the morality which is held to be 
indispensable there ; — and when we gather 
these principles from the book of God's reve- 
lation, — when we are told that the law of the 
two great commandments is, to love the Lord 
our God with all our strength, and heart, and 
mind, and to bear the same love to our neigh- 
bour that we do to ourselves, — the argument 
advances from a conjecture to a certainty, that 
every inhabitant of earth, when brought to the 
bar of Heaven's judicature, is altogether want- 
ing; and that unless some great moral renova- 
tion take effect upon him, he can never be ad- 
mitted within the limits of the empire of right- 
eousness. 



SERMON Vlll. 



CHRIST THE WISDOM OF GOD. 



" Christ the wisdom of God." 

1 Corinthians i. 24. 

We cannot but remark of the Bible, how uni- 
formly and how decisively it announces itself in 
all its descriptions of the state and character of 
man, — how, without offering to palliate the mat- 
ter, it brings before us the totality of our aliena- 
tion, — ho wit represents us to be altogether bro- 
ken off from our allegiance to God, — and how 
it fears not, in the face of those undoubted di- 
versities of character which exist in the world, 
to assert of the whole world, that it is guilty 
before him. And if we would only seize on 
what may be called the elementary principle of 
guilt, — if we would only take it along with us, 
that guilt, in reference to God, must consist in 
the defection of our regard, and our reverence 
from him,— if we would only open our eyes to 
the undoubted fact, that there may be such an 
utter defection, and yet there may be many an 
amiable, and many a graceful exhibition, both 



SERMON VI1L 175 



of feeling and of conduct, in reference to those 
who are around us,-— then should we recognize^ 
in the statements of the Bible, a vigorous, dis- 
cerning, and intelligent view of human nature, — 
an unfaltering announcement of what that 
nature essentially is, under all the plausibilities 
which serve to disguise it, — and such an in- 
sight, in fact, into the secrecies of our inner 
man, as if carried home by that Spirit, whose 
office it is to apply the word with power into 
the conscience, is enough, of itself, io stamp 
upon this book, the evidence of the Divinity 
which inspired it. 

But it is easier far to put an end to the resis- 
tance of the understanding, than to alarm the 
fears, or to make the heart soft and tender, un- 
der a sense of its guiltiness, or to prompt the 
inquiry, — if all those securities, within the en- 
trenchments of which 1 want to take my quiet 
and complacent repose, are thus driven in, 
where in the whole compass of nature or re- 
velation can any effectual security be found ? 
It may be easy to find our way amongst all the 
complexional varieties of our nature, to its ra- 
dical and pervading ungodliness ; and thus to 
carry the acquiescence of the judgment in 
some extended demonstration about the utter 
sinfulness of the species. But it is not so easy 
to point this demonstration towards the bosom 
of any individual, — to gather it up, as it were, 
from its state of diffusion over the whole field 
of humanity, and send it, with all its energies 



J 76 SERMON VIII. 



concentered to a single heart, in the form of a 
sharp, and humbling, and terrifying convic- 
tion, — to make it enter the conscience of some 
one listener, like an arrow sticking fast,— -or, 
when the appalling picture of a whole world 
lying in wickedness, is thus presented to the 
understanding of a general audience, to make 
each of that audience mourn apart over his 
own wickedness ; just as when, on the day of 
judgment, though all that is visible be shaking, 
and dissolving, and giving way, each despair- 
ing eye-witness shall mourn apart over the re- 
collection of his own guilt, over the prospect 
of his own rueful and undone eternity. And 
yet, if this be not done, nothing is done. The 
lesson of the text has come to you in word only, 
and not in power. To look to the truth in its 
generality, is one thing ; to look to your own 
separate concern in it, is another. What we 
want is that each of you shall turn his eye 
homewards; that each shall purify his own 
heart from the influence of a delusion which 
we pronounce to be ruinous ; that each shall 
beware of leaning a satisfaction, or a triumph, 
on the comparison of himself with corrupt and 
exiled men, whom sin has degraded into out- 
casts from the presence of God, and the joys 
of paradise ; that each of you shall look to the 
measure of God's law, so that when the com- 
mandment comes upon you, in the sense of its 
exceeding broadness, a sense of your sin, and 
of your death in sin, may come along with it 



SERMON VIII. 



177 



u Without the commandment I was alive," says 
the Apostle ; " but when the commandment 
came, sin revived, and I died." Be assured, 
that if the utterance of such truth in jour hear- 
ing, impress no personal earnestness, and lead 
to no personal measures, and be followed up 
by no personal movements, then to you it is as 
a sounding brass and as a tinkling cymbal. 
The preacher has been beating the air. That 
great Agent, whose revealed office it is to con- 
vince of sin, has refused to go along with him. 
Another influence altogether, than that which 
is salutary and saving, has been sent into your 
bosom; and the glow of the truth universal 
has deafened or intercepted the application of 
the truth personal, and of the truth particular. 

This leads us to the second thing proposed 
in our last discourse, under which we shall 
attempt to explain the wisdom opposite to that 
folly of measuring ourselves by ourselves, and 
comparing ourselves among ourselves, which 
we have already attempted to expose. 

The first step is to give up all satisfaction 
with yourselves, on the bare ground, that your 
conduct comes up to the measure of human 
character, and human reputation around you, 
This consideration may be of importance to 
your place in society; but, as to your place in 
the favour of God, it is utterly insignificant 
The moral differences which obtain in a com- 
munity of exiles, are all quite consistent with 
the entire obliteration amongst them, of the 
23 



178 



SERMON VOL 



allegiance that is due to the government of 
their native land. And the moral differences 
which obtain in the world, may, in every way, 
be as consistent with the fact, that one and all 
of us, in our state of nature, are alienated from 
God by wicked works. And, in like manner, 
as convicts may be all alive to a sense of their 
reciprocal obligations, while dead in feeling 
and in principle, to the supreme obligation un- 
der which they lie to the sovereign, — so may 
we, in reference to our fellowmen, have a sense 
of rectitude, and honour,and compassion,while, 
in reference to God, we may labour under the 
entire extinction of every moral sensibility, — 
so that the virtues which signalize us, may, in 
the language of some of our old divines, be nei- 
ther more nor less than splendid sins. With 
the possession of these virtues, we may not 
merely be incurring every day the guilt of tres- 
passing and sinning against our Maker in hea- 
ven; but devoid, as we are, of all apprehension 
of the enormity of this, we may strikingly real- 
ize the assertion of the Bible, that weare dead 
in trespasses and sins. And we pass our time 
in all the tranquillity of death. We say peace, 
when there is no peace. Though in a state of 
disruption from God, we live as securely and as 
inconsiderately as if there were no question and 
no controversy betwixt us. About this whole 
matter, there is within us, a spirit of heaviness 
and of deep slumber. We lie fast asleep on the 
brink of an unprovided eternity, — and, if possi- 



SERMON VIII. 



179 



ble to awaken you, let us urge you to compare, 
*>ot your own conduct with that of acquain- 
tances and neighbours, but to compare your 
own finding of the ungodliness that is in your 
heart with the doctrine of God's word about it— 
to bring down the loftiness of your spirit to its 
humbling declarations — to receive it as a faith- 
ful saying, that man is lost by nature, and that 
unless there be some mighty transition, in his 
history, from a state of nature to a state of sal- 
vation, the wrath of God abideth on him. 

The next inquiry comes to be, What is this 
transition ? Tell me the step I should take, and 
I will take it. It is not enough, then, that you 
exalt upon your own person the degree of those 
virtues, by whichyouhave obtained a credit and 
a distinction among men. It is not enough, that 
you throw a brighter and a lovlier hue over your 
social accomplishments. It is not enough, that 
you multiply the offerings of your charity, or 
observe a more rigid compliance, than hereto- 
fore with all the requisitions of justice. All 
this you may do, and yet the great point, on 
which your controversy with God essentially 
hinges, may not be so much as entered upon. 
All this you may do, and yet obtain no nearer 
approximation to Him whosittethon the throne, 
than the outlaws of an offended government for 
their fidelities to each other. To the eye of 
man you may be fairer than before, and in civ il 
estimation be greatly more righteous than be- 
fore, — and yet, with the unquelled spirit of im- 



180 



SERMON VIII. 



piety within you, and as habitual an indifference 
as ever to all the subordinating claims of tbo 
divine will over your heart and your conduct, 
you may stand at as wide a distance from God 
as before. And besides, how are we to dispose 
of the whole guilt of your past iniquities ? 
Whether is it the malefactor or the Lawgiver 
who is to arbitrate this question ? God may re- 
mit our sins ; but it is for him to proclaim this. 
God may pass them over ; but it is for him to 
issue the deed of amnesty. God may have 
found out a way whereby, in consistency with 
his own character, and with the stability of his 
august government, he may take sinners into re- 
conciliation ; but it is for him both to devise and 
to publish this way ; — and we must just do what 
convicts do ; when they obtain a mitigation or 
a cancelment of the legal sentence under which 
they lie, — we must passively accept of it, on the 
terms of the deed, — we must look to the war- 
rant as issued by the sovereign, and take the 
boon or fulfil the conditions, just as it is there 
presented to us. The question is between us 
and God ; and, in the adjustment of this ques- 
tion, we must look singly to the expression of 
his will, and feel that it is with him, and with 
his authority, that we have exclusively to do. 
In one word, we must wait his own revelation, 
and learn from his own mouth how it is that 
he would have us to come nigh unto him. 

Let us go then to the record. 44 No man 
cometh unto the Father but through the Son,'' 



SERMON VIII. 



181 



* There is no other name given under heaven, 
but the name of Jesus, whereby we can be sav- 
ed." " Without the shedding of blood there 
is no remission of sin ; and " God hath set 
forth Christ to be a propitiation through faith 
in his blood." " He was once offered to bear 
the sins of many, — and "became sin for us, 
though he knew no sin, that we might be made 
the righteousness of God in him." " God is in 
Christ reconciling the world unto himself, and 
not imputing unto them their trespasses." 
< 4 Justified by faith, we have peace with God 
through Jesus Christ our Lord ;" — " and we be- 
come the children of God, through the faith 
that is in Christ Jesus." We are " reconciled 
to God by the death of his Son," — " and by his 
obedience are many made righteous,"— and 
;i where sin abounded, grace did much more 
abound." These verses sound foolishness to 
many ; but the cross of Christ is foolishness to 
those that perish. They appear to them invest- 
ed with all the mysteriousness of a dark and hid- 
den saying ; but if this Gospel be hid, it is hid 
to them which are lost. They have eyes that 
they cannot see the wondrous things contain- 
ed in this book of God's communication ; but 
they have minds whichbelieve not, because they 
are blinded by the god of this world, lest the 
light of the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is 
the image of God, should shine into them. 

And here we cannot but insist on the utter 
hopelessness of their circumstances, who hear 



182 SERMON Vl!ll. 

these overtures of reconciliation, but will not lis- 
ten to them. Theirs is just the case of rebels 
turning their back on a deed of grace and of 
amnesty. We are quite confident in stating it 
to be the stubborn experience of human nature, 
that all who reject Christ, as he is offered in the 
Gospel, persist in that radical ungodliness of 
character on which the condemnation of our 
world mainly and essentially rests. And as they 
thus refuse to build their security on the founda- 
tion of his merits, — what, we would ask, is the 
other foundation on which they build it? If ever 
they think seriously of the matter, or feel any 
concern about a foundation on which they might 
rest their confidence before God, they con- 
ceive it to lie in such feelings, and such hu- 
manities, and such honesties, as make them even 
with the world, or as elevate them to a certain 
degree above the level of the world's population. 
These are the materials of the foundation on 
which they build. It is upon the possession 
of virtues which in truth have not God for 
their object, that they propose to support in 
the presence of God the attitude of fearlessness 
It is upon the testimony of fellow-rebels that 
they brave the judgment of the Being who has 
pronounced of them all, that they have deeply 
revolted against him. And all this in the face 
of God's high prerogative, to make and to pub- 
lish his own overtures. All this in contempt 
of that Mediator, whom he has appointed. All 
this in resistance to* the authentic deed of grace 



SERMON VIIL 



183 



and of forgiveness, which has been sent to our 
world, and from which we gather the full as- 
surance of God's willingness to be reconciled ; 
but, at the same time, are expressly bound 
down to that particular way in which he hath 
chosen to dispense reconciliation. Who does 
not see, that, in these circumstances, the guilt 
of sin is fearfully aggravated on the part of 
sinners, by their rejection of the Gospel ? Who 
does not see, that thus to refuse the grant of 
everlasting life in the terms of the grant, is 
just to set an irretrievable seal upon their 
own condemnation ? Who does not see, that, 
in the act of declining to take the shelter 
which is held out to them, they vainly imagine, 
that God will let down his approbation, to such 
performances as are utterly devoid of any spirit 
of devout or dutiful allegiance to the Law- 
giver ? This is, in fact,- a deliberate posting of 
themselves, and that more firmly and more 
obstinately than ever, on the ground of their 
rebellion, — and let us no longer wonder, then, 
at the terms of that alternative of which we read 
so often in the Bible. We there read, that if 
we believe we shall be saved; but we also read, 
that if we believe not, we shall be damned. We 
are there told of the great salvation ; but how 
shall we escape, if we neglect it ? We are there 
invited to lay hold of the Gospel, as the savour 
of life unto life : but, if we refuse the invita- 
tion, it shall be to us the savour of death unto 
death, The Gospel is there freely proclaimed 



134 SERMON VHI. 



to us, for our acceptance : but if we will not 
obey the Gospel, we shall be punished with ever- 
lasting destruction from the presence of the 
Saviour's power. We are asked to kiss the Son 
while he is in the way ; but if we do not, the al- 
ternative is that he will be angry, and that his 
wrath will burn against us. He is revealed to 
us as a sure rock, on which, if we lean we shall 
not be confounded : but if we shift our depen- 
dence away from it, it will fall upon us and 
grind us to powder. 

And this alternative, so far from a matter 
to be wondered at, appears resolvable into a 
principle that might be easily comprehended. 
God is the party sinned against: and if he 
have the will to be reconciled, it is surely for 
him to prescribe the way of it : and this he has 
actually done in the revelation of the New 
Testament : and whether he give a reason for 
the way or not, certain it is, that in order to 
give it accomplishment, he sent his eternal Son 
into our world ; and this descent was accom- 
panied with such circumstances of humiliation, 
and conflict, and deep suffering, that heaven 
looked on with astonishment, and earth was 
bidden to rejoice, because of her great salva- 
tion. It is enough for us to know that God 
lavished on this plan the riches of a wisdom 
that is unsearchable ; that, in the hearing of sin- 
ful men, he has proclaimed its importance and 
its efficacy ; that every Gospel messenger felt 
himself charged, with tidings pregnant of joy* 



SERMON VIII. 185 

and of mighty deliverance to the world. And 
we ask you just to conceive, in these circum- 
stances, what effect it should have on the mind 
of the insulted Sovereign, if the world, instead 
of responding, with grateful and delighted wel- 
come, to the message, shall either nauseate its 
terms, or, feeling in them no significancy, shall 
turn with indifference away from it ? Are we at 
all to wonder if the King, very wroth with the 
men of such a world, shall at length send his ar- 
mies to destroy it ? Do you think it likely that 
the same God, who, after we had broken his com- 
mandment, was willing to pass by our transgres- 
sions, wjll be equally willing to pass them by, 
after we have thus despised the proclamation 
of his mercy; after his forbearance and his long- 
suffering have been resisted ; and that scheme 
of pardon, with the weight and the magnitude 
of which angels appear to labour in amazement, 
is received by the very men for whom it was 
devised, as a thing of no estimation ? Surely, if 
there had been justice in the simple and im- 
mediate punishment of sin — this justice will be 
discharged in still brighter manifestation on him, 
who, in the face of such an embassy, holds out 
in his determination to brave it. And, if it be a 
righteous thing in God to avenge every viola- 
tion of his law, how clearly and how irresistibly 
righteous will it appear, when, on the great day 
of his wrath, he taketh vengeance on those who 
hav e added to the violation of his law, the re- 
jection of the Gospel ! 

24 



185 



SERMON VOL 



But what is more than this — God hath con- 
descended to make known to us a reason, for 
that peculiar way of reconciliation, which he 
hath set before us. It is that he might be just, 
while the justifier of those who believe in Jesus. 
In the dispensation of his mercy, he had to pro- 
vide for the dignity of his throne. He had to 
guard the stability of his truth, and of his right- 
eousness. He had to pour the lustre of a high 
and awful vindication, over the attributes of a 
nature that is holy and unchangeable. He had 
to make peace on earth and good will to men 
meet and be at one, with glory to God in the 
highest ; ^and for this purpose did the eternal 
Son pour out his soul an offering for sin, and 
by his obedience unto death, bring in an ever- 
lasting righteousness. Wis through the channel 
of this great expiation that the guilt of every 
believer is washed away; and it is through the 
imputed merits of him with whom the Fathef 
was well pleased, that every believer is admit- 
ted to the rewards of a perfect obedience. Con- 
ceive any man of this world to reject the offers 
of reward and forgiveness in this way, and to 
look for them in another. Conceive him to chal- 
lenge the direct approbation of his Judge, on 
the measure of his own worth, and his own 
performances, and to put away from him that 
righteousness of Christ, in the measure of 
which there is no short-coming. Is he not, by 
this attitude, holding out against God, and that 
too on a question in which the justice of God 



SERMON VIII. 



187 



stands committed against him? Is not the 
poor sinner of a day entering into a fearful con- 
trovers}', with all the plans, and all the perfec- 
tions of the Eternal ? Might not you conceive 
every attribute of the Divinity, gathering into 
a frown of deeper indignation against the da- 
ringness of him, who thus demands the favour 
of the Almighty on some plea of his own, and 
resolutely declines it on that only plea, under 
which the acceptance of the sinner can be in 
harmony with the glories of God's holy and in- 
violable character ? Surely, if we have fallen 
short of the obedience of his law, and so short, 
as to have renounced altogether that godliness 
which imparts to obedience its spiritual and 
substantial quality,-— then do we aggravate the 
enormity of bur sin, by building our hope before 
God on a foundation of sin ? To sin is to defy 
God : but the very presumption that he will 
smile complacency upon it, involves in it an- 
other, and a still more deliberate attack upon 
his government; and all its sanctions, and all its 
severities, are let loose upon us in greater 
force and abundance than before, if we either 
rest upon our own virtue, or mix up this pollu- 
ted ingredient with the righteousness of Christ, 
and refuse our single, entire, and undivided re- 
liance on him, who alone has magnified the 
law and made it honourable. 

But such, if we may be allowed the expres- 
sion, is the constitution of the Gospel of Jesus 
Christ, that, in proportion to the terror which it 



188 SERMON VilL 



holds out to those who neglect it, is the securi- 
ty that it provides to all, who flee for refuge to 
the hope which is set before them. Paul un- 
derstood this well, when, though he profited 
over mafty of his equals in his own nation, — 
when though had he measured himself by them, 
he might have gathered from the comparison a 
feeling of proud superiority,— when though in 
all that was counted righteous amongst his fel- 
lows, he signalized himself in general estima- 
tion, — yet he willingly renounced a dependence 
upon all, that he might win Christ, and be 
found in him, not having his own righteousness 
which was of the law, but that righteousness 
which is through the faith of Christ, even the 
righteousness which is of God by faith. He felt 
the force of the alternative, between the former 
and the latter righteousness. He knew that the 
one admitted of no measurement with the other; 
and that whatever appearance of worth it had 
in the eyes of men, when brought to their re- 
lative and earthly standard, it was reduced to 
nothing, and worse than nothing, when brought 
to the standard of Heaven's holy and unaltera- 
ble law. Jesus Christ has in our nature fulfil- 
led this law; and it is* in the righteousness 
which he thus wrought, that we are invited to 
stand before God. You do not then take in a 
full impression of Gospel security, if you only 
believe that God is merciful, and has forgiven 
you. You are called further to believe, that 
God is righteous, and has justified you. You 



SERMON VIIL 



189 



have a warrant to put on the righteousness of 
Christ as a robe and as a diadem, and to go to 
the throne of grace with the petition of, Look 
upon me in the face of him who hath fulfilled 
all righteousness. You are furnished with such 
a measure of righteousness as God can accept, 
without letting down a single attribute which 
belongs to him. The truth, and the justice, 
and the holmes, which stands in such threat- 
ening array against the sinner who is out of 
Christ, now form into a shield and a hiding- 
place around him. And while he who trusts 
in the general mercy of God does so at the 
expense of his whole character, he who trusts 
in the mercy of God, which hath appeared 
unto all men through the Saviour, offers in that 
act of confidence an homage to every perfec- 
tion of the Divinity, and has every perfection 
of the Divinity upon his side. And thus it is, 
that under the economy of redemption, we now 
read, not merely of God being merciful, but of 
God being just and faithful in forgiving our 
sins, and in cleansing us from all our unright- 
eousness. 

Thus much for what may be called the judi- 
cial righteousness, with which every believer is 
invested by having the merits of Christ imput- 
ed to him through faith. But this faith is 
something more, than a name. It takes up a 
positive residence in the mind as a principle. 
It has locality and operation there, and has 
either no existence at all, or by its purifying 



190 SERMON Vlli 



and reforming influence on the holder of it, does 
it invest him also with a personal righteousness. 
Now, to apply the conception of our text to 
this personal righteousness, the first thing we 
would say of it is, that it admits of no measure- 
ment whatever with the social worth, or the 
moral virtue, or any other of the persqnal ac- 
complishments of character, which may belong 
to those who have not the faith of the Gospel. 
Faith accepts of the offered reconciliation, and 
moves away from the alienated heart those sus- 
picions, and aversions, and fears, which kept 
man asunder from his God. We would not say, 
then, of the personal righteousness of a believ- 
er, that it consisted in a higher degree of that 
virtue which may exist in a lower degree with 
him who is not a believer. It consists in the 
dawn, and the progress, and the perfecting of 
a virtue, which, before he was a believer, had 
no existence whatever. It consists in the pos- 
session of a character, of which, previous to his 
acceptance of Christ, he had not the smallest 
feature of reality; though to the external eye, 
there may have been some features of resem- 
blance. The principle of Christian sanctifica- 
tion, which, if we were to express it by another 
name, we would call devotedness to God, is 
no more to be found in the unbelieving world, 
than the principle of an allegiance to their 
rightful sovereign, is to be found among the out- 
casts of banishment. It is not by any stretch- 
ing out of the measure of your former virtues, 



SERMON V1IL 191 



then, that you can attain this principle. There 
needs to be originated within you a new virtue 
altogether. It is not by the fostering of that 
which is old, — it is by the creation of some- 
thing new, that a man comes to have the per- 
sonal righteousness of a disciple of the New 
Testament. It is by giving existence to that 
which formerly had no existence. And let us 
no longer wonder, then, at the magnitude of 
the terms which are employed in the Bible, to 
denote the change, the personal change, which, 
in point of character, and affection, and prin- 
ciple, takes place on all who become meet for 
the inheritance of the saints. It is there called 
life from the dead, and a new birth, and a total 
renovation,-— all old things are said to be done 
away, and all things to become new. With 
many it is a wonder how a change of such to- 
tality and of such magnitude, should be ac- 
counted as indispensable to the good and cre- 
ditable man of society, as to the sunken profli- 
gate. But if the one and the other are both 
dead to a sense of their Lawgiver in heaven, — 
then both need to be made alive unto him. 
With both there must be the power and the re- 
ality of a spiritual resurrection. And after this 
great transition has been made, it will be found 
that the virtues of the new state, and those of 
the old state, cannot be brought to any common 
stand ard of measurement at all. The one dis- 
tances the other by a wide and impassable in- 
terval There is all the difference in point of 



192 ' SERMON VIII, 



principle between a man of the world and a 
new creature in Christ, that there is between 
him who has the Spirit of God, and him who 
has it not, — and all the difference in point of 
performance, that there is between him who is 
without Christ, and can therefore do nothing? 
and him who can do all things through Christ 
strengthening him. There is a new principle 
now, which formerly had no operation, even 
that of godliness, — and a new influence now, 
even that of the Holy Ghost, given to the pray- 
ers of the believer, ---and under these provisions 
will he attain a splendour and an energy of 
character, with which, the better and the best 
of this world can no more be brought into com- 
parison, than earth will compare with heaven, 
or the passions and the frivolities of time, with 
the pure ambition and the lofty principles of 
eternity. 

And let it not be said, that the transforma- 
tion of which we are now speaking, instead of 
being thus entire and universal, consists only 
with a good man of the world in the addition 
of one virtue, to his previous stock of many 
virtues. We admit that he had justice before, 
and humanity before, and courteousness before, 
and that the godliness which he had not before, 
is only one virtue. But the station which it 
asserts, among the other virtues, is a station 
of supreme authority. It no sooner takes its 
place among them, than it animates them all, 
and subordinates them all. It sends forth 



SERMON VIII. 193 

among them a new and pervading quality, 
which makes them essentially different from 
what they were before. I may take daily ex- 
ercise from a regard to my health, and by so 
doing I may deserve the character of a man of 
prudence ; or I may take daily exercise apart 
from this consideration altogether, and because 
it is the accidental wish of my parents that I 
should do so ; and thus may 1 deserve the cha- 
racter of a man of filial piety. The external 
habit is the same ; but under the one principle? 
the moral character of this habit is totally and 
essentially different from what it is under the 
other principle. Yet the difference here, is, 
most assuredly, not greater than is the differ- 
ence between the justice of a good man of 
society, and the justice of a Christian disci- 
ple. In the former case, it is done unto others, 
or done unto himself. In the latter case, it is 
done unto God. The frame-work of his outer 
doings is animated by another spirit altogether. 
There is the breath of another life in it. The 
inscription of Holiness to God stands engraven 
on the action of the believer; and if this cha- 
racter of holiness be utterly effaced from the 
corresponding action of the good man of soci- 
ety, then, surely, in character, in worth, in spi- 
ritual and intelligent estimation, there is the 
utmost possible diversity between the two ac- 
tions. So that, should the most upright and 
amiable man upon earth embrace the Gospel 
faith, and become the subject of the Gospel 

25 



194 



SERMON VIII. 



regeneration, — it is true of him, too, that all 
old things are done away, and that all things 
have become new. 

• Thus it is, that while none of the Christian 
virtues can be made to come into measurement 
with any of what may be called the constitu- 
tional virtues, in respect of their principle, be- 
cause the principle of the one set differs from 
that of the other set, in kind as well as in de- 
gree, yet there are certain corresponding vir- 
tues in each of the classes, which might be 
brought together into measurement, in respect 
of visible and external performance. And it 
is a high point of obligation with every disciple 
of the faith, so to sustain his part in this com- 
petition, as to show forth the honour of Chris- 
tianity ; to prove by his own personal history in 
the world, how much the morality of grace out- 
strips the morality of nature ; to evince the su- 
perior lustre and steadiness of the one, when 
compared with the* frail, and fluctuating, and 
desultory character of the other; and to make it 
clear to the eye of experience, that it is only 
under the peculiar government of the doctrine 
of Christ, that all which is amiable in human 
worth, becomes most lovely, and all which i* 
justly held in human admiration, becomes most 
great, and lofty, and venerable. The Bible 
tells us to provide things honest in the sight ol 
men, as well as of God. It tells us, that upoi^ 
the person of every Christian, the features of 
excellence should stand so legibly engraven > 



SERMON VIII. 



195 



that, as a living epistle, he might be seen and 
read of all men. It is true, there is much in 
the character of a genuine believer which the 
world cannot see, and cannot sympathize with. 
There is the rapture of faith, when in lively 
exercise. There is the ecstacy of devotion. 
There is a calm and settled serenity amid all 
the vicissitudes of life. There is the habit of 
having no confidence in the flesh, and of rejoic- 
ing in the Lord Jesus. There is a holding fast 
'of our hope in the promises of the Gospel 
There is a cherishing of the Spirit of adoption. 
There is the work of a believing fellowship 
with the Father and with the Son. There is a 
movement of affection towards the things which 
are above. There is a building up of ourselves 
on our most holy faith. There is a praying in 
the Holy Ghost There is a watching for his 
influence with all perseverance. In a word, 
there is all which the Christian knows to be 
real, and w hich the world hates, and denounces 
as visionary, in the secret, but sublime and 
substantial processes of experimental religion. 
But, on the other hand, there is also much in 
the doings of an altogether Christian, of that 
palpable virtue which forces itself upon general 
observation ; and he is most grievously untrue 
to his Master's cause, if he do not, on this 
ground, so outrun the world, as to force from 
the men of it, an approving testimony. The 
eye of the world cannot enter within the spirit- 
ual recesses of his heart ; but let him ever re- 



196 SERMON VIII. 



member that it is fastened, and that too, with 
keen and scrutinizing jealousy, on the path of 
his visible history. It will offer no homage to 
the mere sanctity of his complexion; nor, un- 
less there be shed over it, the expression of 
what is mild in domestic, or honourable in pub- 
lic virtue, will it ever look upon him in any 
other light, than as an object of the most un- 
mingled disgust. And therefore it is, that he 
must enter on the field of ostensible accomplish- 
ment, and there bear away the palm of superi-* 
ority, and be the most eminent of his fellows 
in all those recognized virtues, that can bless 
or embellish the condition of society ; the most 
untainted in honour, and the most disinterested 
injustice, and the most alert in beneficence, and 
the most unwearied in all these graces, under 
every discouragement and every provocation. 

We have now only time to say, that we shall 
not regret the length of this discourse, or even 
the recurrence of some of its arguments, if any 
hearer amongst you, not in the faith, be 
led by it, to withdraw his confidence from 
the mere accomplishments of nature, — and if 
any believer amongst you be led by it, not 
to despise these accomplishments, but to put 
them on, and to animate them all with the 
spirit of religiousness, — if any hearer amongst 
you, beginning to perceive his own nothing- 
ness in the sight of God, be prompted to in- 
quire, Wherewithal shall I appear before him? 
and not rest from the inquiry, till he flee from 



SERMON VIII. 



197 



his hiding-place, to that everlasting righteous- 
ness which the Saviour hath brought in ; and 
if any believer amongst you, rightly dividing 
the word of truth, shall act on the principle, 
that though nothing but the doctrine of Christ 
crucified, can avail him for acceptance with 
God, yet he is bound to adorn this doctrine in 
all things. And knowing that one may ac- 
quiesce in the whole of such a demonstration, 
without carrying it personally home, we leave 
off with the single remark, that every convic- 
tion not prosecuted, every movement of con- 
science not followed up, every ray of light or 
of truth not turned to individual application, 
will aggravate the reckoning of the great day, 
—and, in that proportion to the degree of ur- 
gency which has been brought to bear upon 
you, and been resisted, will be the weight and 
the justness of your final condemnation. 



SERMON IX. 



THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE TO GOD, 



JUDE 21. 

££ Keep yourselves in the love of God.* J 

It is not easy to give the definition of a term, 
which is currently and immediately understood 
without one. But, should not this ready un- 
derstanding of the term supersede the defini- 
tion of it, what can we tell of love in the way 
of explanation, but by a substitution of terms, 
not more simple and more intelligible than it- 
self? Can this affection of the soul be made 
clearer to you by words, than it is already clear 
to you by your own consciousness ? Are we to 
attempt the elucidation of a term, which, with- 
out any feeling of darkness or of mystery, you 
make familiar use of every day ? You say with 
the utmost promptitude, and you have just as 
ready an apprehension of the meaning of what 
you say, that I love this man, and bear a still 
higher regard to another, but have my chief 
and my best liking directed to a third. We 



SERMON IX, 



199 



will not attempt to go in search of a more lu- 
minous or expressive term, for this simple affec- 
tion, than the one that is commonly employed. 
But it is a different thing, to throw light upon 
the workings of this affection, — to point your 
attention to the objects on which it rests, and 
finds a complacent gratification, — and to assign 
the circumstances, which are either favourable 
or unfavourable to its excitement. All this 
may call forth an exercise of discrimination. 
But instead of dwelling any more on the signi- 
ficaney of the term love, which is the term of 
my text, let us forthwith take it unto use, and 
be confident that, in itself, it carries no ambi- 
guity along with it. 

The term love, indeed, admits of a real 
and intelligent application to inanimate objects. 
There is a beauty in sights, and a beauty in, 
sounds, and I may bear a positive love to the 
mute and unconscious individuals in which this 
beauty hath taken up its residence. 1 may love 
a flower, or a murmuring stream, or a sunny 
bank, or a humble cottage peeping forth from 
its concealment, — or, in fine, a whole landscape 
may teem with such varied graces, that I may 
say of it, this is the scene I most love to be- 
hold, this is the prospect over which my eye 
and my imagination most fondly expatiate. 

The term love admits of an equally real, and 
eaually intelligent application, to our fellow- 
meh. They, too, are the frequent and familiar 
objects of this affection, and they often are so- 



200 



SERMON IX. 



because they possess certain accomplishments 
of person and of character, by which it is ex- 
cited. I love the man whose every glance 
speaks an effusive cordiality towards those 
who are around him. I love the man whose 
heart and whose hand are ever open to the re- 
presentations of distress. I love the man who 
possesses such a softness of nature, that the^ im- 
ploring look of a brother in want, or of a bro- 
ther in pain, disarms him of all his selfishness, 
and draws him out to some large and willing 
surrender of generosity. I love the man who 
carries on his aspect, not merely the expres- 
sion of worth, but of worth maintained in the 
exercise of all its graces, under every variety 
of temptation and discouragement; who, in the 
midst of calumny, can act the warm and en- 
lightened philanthropist ; who, when beset 
with many provocations, can weather them all 
in calm and settled endurance; who can be 
kind even to the unthankful and the evil ; and 
who, if he possess the awful virtues of truth 
and of justice, only heightens our attachment 
the more, that he possesses goodness, and ten- 
derness, and benignity along with them. 

Now, we would have you to advert to one 
capital distinction, between the former and the 
latter class of objects. The inanimate reflect 
no love upon us back again. They do not sin- 
gle out any one of their admirers, and, by an # 
act of preference, either minister to his selfish 
appetite for esteem, or minister to his selfish 



SERMON IX. 20i 



appetite for enjoyment, by affording to him a 
larger share than to others, of their presence, 
and of all the delights which their presence 
Inspires. They remain motionless in their 
places, without will and without sensibility; 
and the homage they receive, is from the dis- 
interested affection, which men bear to their 
loveliness. They are loved, and that purely, 
because they are lovely. There is no mixture 
of selfishness in the affection that is offered to 
them. They do not put on a sweeter smile to 
one man than to another ; but all the features 
of that beauty in which they are arrayed, stand 
inflexibly the same to every beholder; and he, 
without any conscious mingling whatever of 
self-love, in the emotion with which he gazes 
at the charms of some external scenery, is ac- 
tuated by a love towards it, which rests and 
which terminates on the objects that he is em- 
ployed in contemplating. 

But this is not always the case, when our 
fellow-men are the objects of this affection. I 
should love cordiality, and benevolence, and 
compassion for their own sakes ; but let your 
own experience tell, how far more sweetly and 
more intensely the love is felt, when this cor- 
diality is turned, in one stream of kindliness, 
towards myself; when the eye of friendship 
has singled out me, and looks at me with a 
peculiar graciousness ; when the man of ten- 
derness has pointed his way to the abode of 
my suffering family, and there shed in secrecy 
. 26 



202 



SERMON IX. 



over them his liberalities, and his tears ; when 
he has forgiven me the debt that I was unable 
to discharge ; and when, oppressed as I am, by 
the consciousness of having injured or reviled 
him, he has nobly forgotten or overlooked the 
whole provocation, and persists in a regard 
that knows no abatement, and in a well-doing 
that is never weary. 

There is an element, then, in the love I bear 
to a fellow-man, which does not exist in the 
love I bear to an inanimate object; and which 
may serve, perhaps, to darken the character 
of the affection that I feel towards the former. 
We most readily concede it, that the love of 
another, on account of the virtues which adorn 
him, changes its moral character altogether, if 
it be a love to him, solely on account of the 
benefit which I derive from the exercise of 
these virtues. 1 should love compassion on 
its own account, as well as on the account that 
it is I who have been the object of it. I should 
love justice on its own account, as well as on 
the account that my grievances have been re- 
dressed by the dispensation of it. On looking 
at goodness, 1 should feel an affection resting 
on this object, and finding there its full and its 
terminating gratification ; and that, though I 
had never stood in the way of any one of its 
beneficent operations. 

How is it, then, that the special direction of 
amoral virtue in another, towards the object 
of my personal benefit, operates in enhancing 



SERMON IX, 



203 



both the sensation which it imparts to my 
heart, and the estimate which I form of it ? 
What is the peculiar quality communicated to 
my admiration of another's friendship, and an- 
other's goodness, by the circumstance of my- 
self, being the individual towards whom that 
friendship is cherished, and in favour of whom 
that goodness puts itself forth into active exer- 
tion? At the sight of a benevolent man, there 
arises in my bosom an instantaneous homage 
of regard and of reverence; — but should that 
homage take a pointed direction towards my- 
self, — should it realize its fruits on the comfort 
and security of my own person, — should it be 
employed in gladdening my home, and spread- 
ing enjoyment over my family, oppressed with 
want and pining in sickness, there is, you will 
allow, by these circumstances, a heightening 
of the love and the admiration that 1 formerly 
rendered to him. And, we should like to know 
what is the precise character of the addition 
that has thus been given to my regard for the 
virtue of benevolence. W e should like to know, 
if it be altogether a pure and a praiseworthy ac- 
cession that has thus come upon the sentiment, 
with which I now look at my benefactor, — or, 
if, by contracting any taint of selfishness, it 
has lost the high rank that formerly belonged 
to it, as a disinterested affection, towards the 
goodness which beautifies and adorns his cha- 
racter. 

There is one way, however, in which this 



204 SERMON IX. 



special direction of a moral virtue towards my 
particular interest, may increase my affection 
for it, and without changing the moral charac- 
ter of my affection. It gives me a nearer view 
of the virtue in question. It is true, that the 
virtue may just be as lovely when exercised in 
behalf of my neighbour, as when exercised in 
behalf of myself. But, in the former case, I am 
not an eye-witness to the display and the evo- 
lution of its loveliness. 1 am a limited being, 
who cannot take in so full and so distinct an 
impression of the character of what is distant, 
as of the character of what is immediately be- 
side me. It is true, that all tKe circumstances 
maybe reported. But you know very well, that a 
much livelier representation is obtained of any 
object, by the seeing of it, than by the hearing 
of it. To be told of kindness, does not bring 
this attribute of character so forcibly, or so 
clearly home to my observation, as to receive 
a visit from kindness, and to take it by the hand, 
and to see its benignant mien, and to hear its 
gentle and complacent voice, and to witness 
the solicitude of its inquiries, and to behold its 
tender and honest anxiety for my interest, and 
to share daily and weekly in the liberalities 
which it has bestowed upon me. When all this 
goes on around my own person, and within the 
limits of my own dwelling-place, it is very true 
that self is gratified, and that this circumstance 
may give rise to sensations, which are altoge- 
ther distinct from the love I bear to moral 



SERMON IX. 



201 



worth, or to moral excellence. But this does 
not hinder, that, along with these sensations, a 
disinterested love for the moral virtue of which 
I have been the object, may, at the same time, 
have its room, and its residence within my bo- 
som. I may love goodness more than ever, 
on its own own account, since it has taken its 
specific way to my habitation, and that, just 
because I have obtained a nearer acquaint- 
ance with it. I may love it better, because I 
know it better. My affection for it may have 
become more intense, and more devoted than 
before, because iJsjDeauty is now more fully un- 
folded to the eye of my observation than be- 
fore. And thus, when we admit that the good- 
ness of which I am the object, originates with- 
in me certain feelings different in kind from 
that which is excited by goodness in gene- 
ral, yet it may heighten the degree of this lat- 
ter feeling also. It may kindle or augment the 
love I bear to moral virtue in itself ; or, in other 
words, it may enhance my affection for worth, 
without any change whatever in the moral cha- 
racter of that affection. 

Now, before we proceed to consider those 
peculiar emotions which are excited within me. 
by being the individual, in whose favour certain 
virtues are exercised, and which emotions are, 
all of them, different in kind from the affection 
that I bear for these virtues, — let us further ob- 
serve, that the term love, when applied to a 
sentient being, considered as the object of it. 



206 



SERMON IX. 



may denote an affection, different in the princi- 
ple of its excitement, from any that we have 
been yet considering. My love to another 
may lie in the liking I have for the moral quali- 
ties which belong to him; and this, by way of 
distinctness, may be called the love of moral 
esteem or approbation. Or, my love to another, 
may consist in the desire I have for his happi- 
ness ; and this may be called the love of kind- 
ness. These two are often allied to each other 
in fact, but there is a real difference in their 
nature. The love of kindness which 1 bear to 
my infant child, may have to reference to its 
moral qualities whatever. This love finds its 
terminating gratification, in obtaining for the 
object of it, exemption from pain, or in minis- 
tering to its enjoyments. It is very true, that 
the sight of what is odious or revolting in the 
character of another, tends, in point of fact, to 
dissipate all the love of kindness I may have 
ever borne to him. But it does not always 
do so, and one instance of this proves a real 
distinction, in point of nature, between the love 
of kindness, and the love of moral esteem. And 
the highest and most affecting instance which can 
be given of tiiis distinction, is in the love where- 
with God hath loved the world; is in that kind- 
ness towards us, through Christ Jesus, which he 
hath made known to men in the Gospel; is in that 
longing regard to his fallen creatures, whereby 
he was not willing that any should perish, but 
rather that all should live. There was the love 



SERMON IX. 



207 



of kindness standing out, in marked and sepa- 
rate display, from the love of moral esteem ; 
for, alas! in the degraded race of mankind, 
there was not one quality which could call 
forth such an affection, in the breast of the 
Godhead. It was, when we were hateful to 
him in character, that, in person and in inte- 
rest, we were the objects of his most unbound- 
ed tenderness. It was, when we were enemies 
by wicked works, that God looked on with pi- 
ty, and stretched forth, to his guilty children, 
the arms of offered reconciliation. It was ? 
when we had wandered far, in the paths of 
worthlessness and alienation, that he devised 
a message of love, and sent his Son into our 
world, to seek and to save us. 

And this, by the way, may serve to illustrate 
the kind of love which we are required to bear 
to our enemies. We are required to love them, 
in the same way in which God loves his ene- 
mies. A conscientious man will feel oppressed 
by the difficulty of such a precept, if he try to 
put it into obedience, by loving those who have 
offended, with the same feeling of complacen- 
cy with which he loves those who have be- 
friended him. But the truth is, that the love 
of moral esteem often enters, as a principal 
ingredient, into the love of complacency ; and 
we are not required, by our imitation of the 
Godhead, to entertain any such affection, for 
the depraved and the worthless, It is enough, 
that we cherish towards them in our hearts the 



208 



SERMON IX. 



love of kindness ; and this will be felt a far 
more practicable achievement, than to force 
up the love of complacency into a bosom, re- 
volted by the aspect of treachery, or disho- 
nesty, or unprincipled selfishness. There is 
no possible motive to excite the latter affec- 
tion. There may be a thousand to excite the 
former: and we have only to look to the un- 
happy man in all his prospects, and in all his 
relations; we have only to pity his delusions, 
and to view him as the hapless victim of a sad 
and ruinous infatuation ; we have only to carry 
our eye onwards to the agonies of that death, 
which will shortly lay hold of him, and to com- 
pute the horrors of that eternity, which if not 
recovered from the error of his way, he is about 
to enter ; we have only, in a word, to put forth 
an exercise of faith in certain near and im- 
pending realities, the evidence of which is al- 
together resistless, in order to summon up such 
motives, and such considerations, as may cause 
the compassion of our nature to predominate 
over the resentment of our nature ; and as will 
assure to a believer the victory over such ur- 
gencies of his constitution, as to the unrenewed 
keart, are utterly unconquerable. 

But, to resume our argument, let it be ob- 
served, that the kindness of God is one of the 
loveliest, and most estimable of the attributes, 
which belong to him. It is a bright feature in 
that assemblage of excellencies, which enter 
into the character of the Godhead; and, as 



SERMON IX. 209 

such, independently altogether of this kindness 
being exercised upon me, I should offer to it 
the homage of my moral approbation. But, 
should I be the special and the signalized object 
of his kindness, there is another sentiment to- 
ward God, beside the love of moral esteem, 
that ought to be formed within me by that cir- 
cumstance, and which, in the business of rea- 
soning, should be kept apart from it. There is 
the lo ve of gratitude. These often go together, 
and may be felt simultaneously, towards the one 
being we are employed in contemplating. But 
they are just as distinct, each from the other, 
as is the love of moral esteem from the love of 
kindness. We trust that we have already con- 
vinced you, that God feels towards us, his infe- 
riors, the love of kindness, when he cannot, 
from the nature of the object, feel for us the 
slightest degree of the love of moral esteem. 
In the same manner, may we feel, we are not 
saying towards God, but towards an earthly 
benefactor, the love of gratitude, when, from 
the nature of the object we are employed in 
contemplating, there is much to impair within 
us the love of moral esteem, or to extinguish 
i t altogether. Is it not most natural to say of 
the man, who has been personally benevolent 
to myself, and who has, at the same time, dis- 
graced himself by his vices, that, bad as he is, 
he has been at all times remarkably kind to me, 
and felt many a movement of friendship to- 
wards my person, and done many a deed of fan- 

27 



210 SERMON IX, 

portant service to my family, and that I, at 
least, owe him a gratitude for all this, — that 1, 
at least, should be longer than others, of dis- 
missing from my bosom the last remainder of 
cordiality towards him, — that, if infamy and 
poverty have followed, in the career of his 
wickedness, and he have become an outcast 
from the attentions of other men, it is not for 
me to spurn him instantly from my door, — or, 
in the face of my particular recollections, to 
look unpitying and unmoved, at the wretched- 
ness into which he has fallen. 

It is the more necessary, to distinguish the 
love of gratitude from the love of moral esteem, 
that each of these affections may be excited 
simultaneously within me, by one act or by one 
exhibition of himself, on the part of the Deity. 
Let me be made to understand, that God has 
passed by my transgression, and generously ad- 
mitted me into the privileges and the rewards 
of obedience, — I see in this, a tenderness, and 
a mercy, and a love, for his creatures, which, if 
blended at the same time with all that is high 
and honourable in the more august attributes of 
his nature, have the effect of presenting him to 
my mind, and of drawing out my heart in moral 
regard to him, as a most amiable and estima- 
ble object of contemplation. But, besides this, 
there is a peculiar love of gratitude, excited by 
the consideration that I am the object of this 
benignity ,— that I am one of the creatures to 
whom he has directed this peculiar regard,— 



SERMON IX. 



211 



that he has singled out me, and conceived a gra- 
cious purpose towards me, and in the execution 
of this purpose is lavishing upon my person, the 
blessings of a father's care, and afather's tender- 
ness. Both the love of moral esteem, and the 
love of gratitude, may thus be in contempora- 
neous operation within me; and it will be seen 
to accomplish a practical, as well as a metaphy- 
sical purpose, to keep the one apart from the 
other, in the view of the mind, when love to- 
wards God is the topic of speculation, which 
engages it. 

But, further, let it be understood, that the 
love of gratitude differs from the love of moral 
esteem, not merely in the cause which imme- 
diately originates it, but also in the object, in 
which it finds its rest and its gratification. It 
is the kindness of another being to myself, 
which originates within me the love of gratitude 
towards him ; and it is the view of what is mo- 
rally estimable in this being, that originates 
within me all the love of moral esteem, that 1 
entertain for him. There is a real distinction 
of cause between these two affections, and there 
is also between them a real distinction of object 
The love of moral esteem finds its complacent 
gratification, in the act ol dwelling contempla- 
tively on that Being, by whom it is excited; just 
as a tasteful enthusiast inhales delight from the 
act of gazing, on the charms of some external 
scenery. The pleasure he receives, emanates 
directly upon his mind, from the forms of beauty 



212 



SERMON IX. 



and of loveliness, which are around him. And 
if, instead of a taste for the beauties of nature, 
there exists within him, a taste for the beauties 
of holiness, then will he love the Being, who 
presents to the eye of his contemplation the 
fullest assemblage of them, and his taste will 
find its complacent gratification in dwelling up- 
on him, whether as an object of thought, or as 
an object of perception. " One thing have 1 de- 
sired," says the Psalmist, " that I may dwell in 
the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to 
behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire 
in his temple." Now, the love of gratitude is 
distinct from this in its object. It is excited 
by the love of kindness ; and . the feeling which 
is thus excited, is just a feeling of kindness back 
again. It is kindness begetting kindness. The 
language of this affection is, " What shall I ren- 
der unto the Lord for all his benefits ?" He 
has done what is pleasing and gratifying to me, 
What shall I do to please, and to gratify him ? 
The love of gratitude seeks for answers to this 
question, and finds its delight in acting upon 
them, and whether the answer be, — this is the 
will of God even your sanctification, — or, with 
the sacrifices of liberality God is well pleased, — 
or, obedience to parents is well pleasing in his 
sight, — these all point out so many lines of con- 
duct, to which the impulse of the love of gra- 
titude would carry us, and attest this to be 
the love of God, — that ye keep his command- 
ments, 



SERMON IX. 



213 



And, indeed, when the same Being com- 
bines, in his own person, that which ought to 
excite the love of moral * esteem, with that 
which ought to excite the love of gratitude, — ■ 
the two ingredients, enter with a mingled but 
harmonious concurrence, into the exercise 
of one compound affection. It is true, that 
the more appropriate offering of the former 
is the offering of praise, — just as when one 
looks to the beauties of nature, he breaks out 
into a rapturous acknowledgment of them ; and 
so it may be, when one looks to the venerable, 
and the lovely in the character of God. The 
more appropriate offering of the latter, is the of- 
fering of thanksgiving, or of such services as are 
fitted to please, and to gratify a benefactor. But 
still it may be observed, how each of these sim- 
ple affections tends to express itself, by the very 
act which more characteristically marks the 
workings of the other ; or, how the more appro- 
priate offering of the first of them, may be prompt- 
ed under the impulse, and movement of the se- 
cond of them, and conversely. For, if I love 
God because of his perfections, what principle 
can more powerfully or more directly lead to 
the imitation of them ? — which is the very ser- 
vice that he requires, and the very offering that 
he is most pleased with. And, if I love God 
because of his goodness to me, what is more 
fitted to prompt my every exertion, in the way 
of spreading the honours of his character and 
of hiB name among my fellows,— and, for this 



214 



SERMON IX. 



purpose, to magnify in their hearing the glories 
and the attributes of his nature ? It is thus that 
the voice of praise" and the voice of gratitude 
may enter into one song of adoration; and 
that whilst the Psalmist, at one time, gives 
thanks to God at the remembrance of his holi- 
ness, he, at another, pours forth praise at the 
remembrance of his mercies. 

To have the love of gratitude towards God, 
it is essential that we know and believe his love 
of kindness towards us. To have the love of 
moral esteem towards him, it is essential that 
the loveliness of his character be in the eye of 
the mind ; or, in other words, that the mind 
keep itself in steady and believing contempla- 
tion of the excellencies which belong to him. 
The view that we have of God, is just as much 
in the order of precedency to the affection that 
we entertain for him, as any two successive 
steps can be, in any of the processes of our 
mental constitution. To obtain the introduc- 
tion of love into the heart, there must, as a 
preparatory circumstance, be the introduction 
of knowledge into the understanding ; or, as 
we can never be said to know what we do not 
believe — ere we have love, we must have faith; 
and, accordingly* in the passage from which 
our text is extracted, do we perceive the one 
pointed to, as the instrument for the produc- 
tion of the other. " Keep yourselves in the 
love of God, building yourselves up on your 
most holy faith," 



SERMON IX. 



And here, it ought to be remarked, that a 
man may experience a mental process, and yet 
have no taste or no understanding for the ex- 
planation of it. The simple truths of the Gos- 
pel, may enter with acceptance into the mind 
of a peasant, and there work all the proper in- 
fluences on his heart and character, which the 
Bible ascribes to them : and yet he may be ut- 
terly incapable of tracing that series of inward 
movements,by which he is carried onwards from 
a belief in the truth, to all those moral and affec- 
tionate regards, which mark a genuine disciple 
of the truth. He may be the actual subject of 
these movements, though altogether unable 
to follow or to analyze them. This is not 
peculiar to the judgments, or the feelings of 
Christianity. In the matters of ordinary life, a 
man may judge sagaciously, and feel correctly 
while ardently ;— and experience, in right and 
natural order, the play of his various faculties, 
without having it at all in his power, either to 
frame or to follow a true theory of his facul- 
ties. It is well, that the simple preaching of 
the Gospel has its right practical operation on 
men, who make no attempt whatever, to com- 
prehend the metaphysics of the operation. 
But, if ever metaphysics be employed to dark- 
en the freeness of the Gospel offer, or to de- 
throne faith from the supremacy which be- 
longs to it, or to forbid the' approaches of 
those whom God has not forbidden ; then must 
it be met upon its own ground, and the real 



216 



SERMON IX. 



character of our beneficent religion be assert- 
ed, amid the attempts of those who have in 
any way obscured or injured it by their illus- 
trations. 



SERMON X. 



GRATITUDE, NOT A SORDID AFFECTION* 



1 John iv. 19. 
" We love him, because he first loved us." 

Some theologians have exacted from an in- 
quirer, at the very outset of his conversion, that 
he should carry in his heart what they call the 
disinterested love of God. They have set him 
on the most painful efforts to acquire this affec- 
tion, — and that too, before he was in circum- 
stances in which it was at all possible to enter- 
tain it They have led him to view with sus- 
picion the love of gratitude, as having in it a 
taint of selfishness. They are for having him 
to love God, and that on the single ground that 
he is lovely, without any reference to his own 
comfort, or even to his own safety. Strange 
demand which they make on a sentient being, 
that even amidst the fears and the images of 
destruction, he should find room in his heart for 
the love of complacency ! and equally strange 
demand to make on a sinful being, that ere he 
admit such a sense of reconciliation into his bo- 
som, as will instantly call forth a grateful regard 
to him who has conferred it, he must view God 
with a disinterested affection ; that from the 
deep and helpless abyss of his depravity, he 
must find, unaided, his ascending way to the 
28 



218 



SERMON X 



purest and the sublimest emotion of moral na» 
ture; that ere he is delivered from fear he 
must love, even though it be said of love, that 
it casteth out fear; and that ere he is placed 
on the vantage ground of the peace of the Gos- 
pel, he must realize on his character, one of 
the most exalted of its perfections. 

The effect of all this on many an anxious 
seeker after rest, has been most discouraging. 
With the stigma that has been affixed to the 
love of gratitude, they have been positively ap- 
prehensive of the inroads of this affection, and 
have studiously averted the eye of their con- 
templation from the objects which are fitted to 
inspire it. In other words, they have hesitated 
to entertain the free offers of salvation, and 
misinterpreted all the tokens of an embassy, 
which has proclaimed peace on earth and good 
will to men. They think that all which they 
can possibly gather, in the way of affection? 
from such a contemplation, is the love of gra- 
titude ; and that gratitude is selfishness ; and 
that selfishness is not a gracious affection ; and 
that ere they be surely and soundly converted, 
the love they bear to God must be of a total- 
ly disinterested character ; and thus through 
another medium than that of a free and gratu- 
itous dispensation of kindness, do they strive, 
by a misunderstood gospel, or without the 
gospel altogether, to reach a peace and a pre- 
paration which we fear, in their way of it, is 
to sinners utterly unattainable. 



SERMON X. 



219 



in the progress of this discourse let us en* 
deavour, in the first place, to rescue the love of 
gratitude from the imputations which have 
been preferred against it, — and, secondly, to 
assign to the love of kindness manifested to the 
world in the gospel, and to the faith by which 
that love is made to arise in the heart, the place 
that the pre-eminence which belong to them. 

I. The proper object of the love of grati- 
tude, is the being who has exercised towards 
me the love of kindness : and this is more cor- 
rect than to say, that the proper object of this 
affection, is the being who has conferred bene- 
fits upon me. I can conceive another to load 
me with benefactions, and, at the same time, to 
evince that kindness towards me was not the 
principle which impelled him. It may be done 
reluctantly at the bidding of another, or it may 
be done to serve some interested purpose, or 
it may be done to parade his generosity before 
the eye of the public. If it be not done from 
a real principle of kindness to myself, I may 
take his gifts, and I may find enjoyment in the 
use of them; but I feel no gratitude towards 
the dispenser of them. Unless I see his kind- 
ness in them, I will not be grateful. It is true 
that, in point of fact, gratitude often springs 
from the rendering of a benefit ; but, lest we 
should confound things which are different, let 
it be well observed, that this is only when the 
benefit serves as the indication of a kind pur- 
pose, or of a kind affection, on the part of him 



220 



SERMON X. 



who hath grajited it. And this may be proved? 
not merely by showing, that there may be no 
gratitude where there is a benefit, but also by 
showing, that there may be gratitude where 
there is no material benefit whatever. Just let 
the naked principle of kindness discover itself, 
and though it have neither the power, nor the 
opportunity of coming forth with the dispensa- 
tion of any service, it is striking to observe, 
how upon the bare existence of this affection 
being known, it is met by a grateful feeling, on 
the part of him to whom it is directed ; and 
what mighty augmentations may be given, in 
this way, to the stock of enjoyment, and that* 
by the mere reciprocation of kindness beget- 
ting kindness. For, to send the expression of 
this kindness into another's bosom, it is not al- 
ways necessary to do it on the vehicle of a po- 
sitive donation, It maybe conveyed by a look 
of benevolence ; and thus it is, that by the 
mere feeling of cordiality, a tide of happiness 
may be made to circulate throughout all the 
individuals of an assembled company. Or it 
may be done by a very slight and passing at- 
tention, and thus it is, that the cheap services 
of courteousness, may spread such a charm 
over the face of a neighbourhood. Or it may 
be done by the very poorest member of human 
society ; and thus it is, that the ready and sin- 
cere homage of attachment from such a man, 
may beam a truer felicity Upon me, and call 
forth a livelier gratitude to him who has con* 



SERMON X. 



ferred it, than some splendid act of patronage 
on the part of a superior. Or it may be done 
by a Christian visitor in some of the humblest 
of our city lanes, who, without one penny to 
bestow on the children of want, may spread 
among them the simple conviction of her good 
will, and call down upon her person the voice 
of thankfulness and of blessing, from all their 
habitations. And thus it is, that by good will 
creating good will, a pure and gladdening influ- 
ence will at length go abroad over the face of 
our world, and mankind will be made to know 
the might and the mystery of that tie, which 
is to bind them together into one family, and 
they will rejoice in the power of that secret 
charm which so heightens and so multiplies the 
pleasure of all the members of it; and, when 
transported from earth to heaven, they will 
still feel, that while it is to the benefits which 
God hath conferred that they owe the posses- 
sion and all the privileges of existence ; it is to 
a sense of the love which prompted these be- 
nefits, that they will owe the ecstatic charm of 
their immortality. It is the beaming kindness 
of God upon them, that will put their souls 
into the liveliest transports of gratitude and 
joy; and it is the reciprocation of this kind- 
ness on the part of those, who, while they have 
fellowship with the Father, and with the Son, 
have fellowship also with one another, that 
will cause the joy of heaven to be full. 

The distinction which we are now adverting 



222 SERMON X. 

to, is something more than a mere shadowy re* 
finement of speculation. It may be realized on 
the most trodden and ordinary path of human 
experience, and is, in fact, one of the most fa- 
miliar exhibitions of genuine and unsophisticat- 
ed nature, in those ranks of society where re- 
finement is -unknown* Let one man go over 
any given district of the city, fully fraught 
with the materiel of benevolence; let turn be 
the agent of some munificent subscription, and 
with nothing in his heart but just such affec- 
tions, and such jealousies, and such thoughtful 
anxieties, about a right and equitable division, 
as belong to the general spirit of his office ; 
let him leave some substantial deposit with 
each of the families ; and then compute, if he 
can, the quantity of gratitude which he carries 
away with him. It were a most unkind reflec- 
tion on the lower orders, and not more unkind 
than untrue, to deny that there will be the 
mingling of some gratitude, along with the 
clamour, and the envy, and the discontent, 
which are ever sure to follow in the train of 
such a ministration. It is not to discredit the 
poor, that we introduce our present observa- 
tion ; but to bring out, if possible, into broad 
and luminous exhibition, one of the finest sen- 
sibilities which adorns them. It is to let you 
know the high cast of character of which they 
are capable ; and how the glow of pleasure 
which arises in their bosoms, when the eye of 
simple affection beams upon their persons, or 



SERMON X. 



223 



upon their habitations, may not have one single 
taint of sordidness to debase it. And to prove 
this, just let another man go over the same dis- 
trict, and in the train of the former visitation ; 
conceive him unbacked by any public institu- 
tion, to have nothing in his hand that might 
not be absorbed by the needs of a single fami- 
ly, but, that utterly destitute, as he is, of the 
materiel, he has a heart charged and overflow- 
ing with the whole morale of benevolence. Just 
Jet him go forth among the people, without one 
other recommendation than an honest and un- 
dissembled good will to them; and let this 
good will manifest its existence, in any one of 
the thousand ways, by which it may be authen- 
ticated ; and whether it be by the cordiality 
of his manners, or by his sympathy with their 
griefs, or by the nameless attentions and offices 
of civility, or by the higher aim of that kind- 
ness which points to the welfare of their im- 
mortality, and evinces its reality, by its repay 
and unwearied services among the young, or 
the sick, or the dying; just let them be satis- 
fied of the one fact, that he is their friend, 
and that all their joys and all their sorrows are 
his own ; he may be struggling with hardships 
and necessities, as the poorest of them all ; but 
poor as they are, they know what is in his heart, 
and well do they know how to value it ; and 
from the voice of welcome, which meets him 
in the very humblest of their tenements ; and 
from the smile of that heartfelt enjoyment* 



224 



SERMON X. 



which his presence is ever sure to awaken, and 
from the influence of graciousness which he 
carries along with him into every house, and 
by which he lights up an honest emotion of 
thankfulness in the hosom of every family, may 
we gather the existence of a power, which 
worth alone, and without the accompaniment 
of wealth, can bestow; a power to sweeten 
and subdue, and tranquillize, which no money 
can purchase, which no patronage can create 
It will be readily acknowledged by all, that 
the most precious object in the management of 
a town, is to establish the reign of happiness 
and contentment among those who live in it. 
And it is interesting to mark the operations of 
those, who, without adverting to the principle 
that I now insist upon, think, that all is to be 
achieved, by the beggarly elements which en- 
ter into the arithmetic of ordinary business; 
who rear their goodly scheme upon the basis of 
sums and computations ; and think that by an 
overwhelming discharge of the materiel of be- 
nevolence, they will reach an accomplishment 
which the morale of benevolence alone is equal 
to. We are sure that it is not to mortify our 
men of grave, and official, and calculating ex- 
perience, that we tell them, how, with all their 
strength, and all their sagacity, they have only 
given their money for that which is not meat, 
and their labour for that which satisfieth not. 
It is to illustrate a principle of our common 
nature, so obvious, that to be recognized, i< 



SERMON X. 



225 



needs only to be spoken of. And it were well, 
if in so doing their thoughts could be led to the 
instrumentality of this principle, as the only way 
in which they can redeem the failures of their 
by-gone experience ; if they could be convinc- 
ed, that the agents of a zealous and affectionate 
Christianity can alone do what all the influence 
of municipal weight and municipal wisdom 
cannot do ; if they could be taught what the 
ministrations are, by which a pure and a re- 
sponding gratitude, may be made tp circulate 
throughout all our dwelling-places ; if, in a 
word, while they profess to serve the poor, 
they could be led to respect the poor, to do 
homage to that fineness of moral temperament 
which belongs to them, and which hitherto 
seems to have escaped, altogether, the eye of 
civil or political superintendence; and they 
may rest assured, that let them give as much 
in the shape of munificence as they will, if they 
add not the love to the liberality of the Gospel, 
they will never soften one feature of unkindli- 
ness, or chase away one exasperated feeling, 
from the hearts of a neglected population. 

But beside the degree of purity in which 
this principle may exist among the most desti- 
tute of our species, it is also of importance to 
remark the degree of strength, in which it ac- 
tually exists among the most depraved of our 
species. And, on this subject, do we think 
that the venerable Howard has bequeathed to 
us a most striking and valuable observation 



226 



SERMON X. 



You know the history of this man's enterprises, 
how his doings, and his observations, were 
among the veriest outcasts of humanity, — how 
he descended into prison houses, and there 
made himself familiar with all that could most 
revolt or terrify, in the exhibition of our fallen 
nature; how, for this purpose, he made the 
tour of Europe ; but instead of walking in the 
footsteps of other travellers, he toiled his painful 
and persevering way through these receptacles 
of worthlessness ; — and, sound experimentalist 
as he was, did he treasure up the phenomena 
of our nature, throughout all the stages of mis 
fortune, or depravity. We may well conceive 
the scenes of moral desolation that would often 
meet his eye ; and that, as he looked to the 
hard, and dauntless, and defying aspect of cri- 
minality before him, he w f ould sicken in despair 
of ever finding one remnant of a purer and bet- 
ter principle, by which he might lay hold of 
these unhappy men, and convert them into the 
willing and the consenting agents of their ow r n 
amelioration. And yet such a principle he 
found, and found it, as he tells us, after years 
of intercourse, as the fruit of his greater experi- 
ence, and his longer observation ; and gives, as 
the result of it, that convicts, and that, among 
the most desperate of them all, are not ungov- 
ernable, and that there is a way of managing 
even them, and that the way is, without relax- 
ing, in one iota, from the steadiness of a calm 
and resolute discipline, to treat them with 
tenderness, and to show them that you have 



SERMON X. 



227 



humanity ; and thus a principle, of itself so 
beautiful, that to expatiate upon it, gives in the 
eyes of some, an air of fantastic declamation to 
our argument, is actually deponed to, by an 
aged and most sagacious observer. It is the 
very principle of our text ; and it would appear 
that it keeps a lingering hold of our nature, 
even in the last and lowest degree of human 
wickedness ; and that, when abandoned by 
every other principle, this may still be detect- 
ed, — that even among the most hackneyed and 
most hardened of malefactors there is still 
about them a softer part which will give way to 
the demonstrations of tenderness : that this one 
ingredient of a better character is still found to 
survive the dissipation of all the others, — that, 
fallen as a brother may be, from the moralities 
which at one time adorned him, the manifested 
good-will of his fellow man still carries a charm 
and an influence along with it ; and that, there- 
fore, there lies in this, an operation which, as 
no poverty can vitiate, so no depravity can 
extinguish*. 

Now, this is the very principle which is 
brought into action, in the dealings of God 
with a whole world of malefactors. It looks, 
as if he confided the whole cause of our recov- 
ery, to the influence of a demonstration of good- 
will. It is truly interesting to mark, what, in 
the devisings of his unsearchable wisdom, is 

* The operation of the same principle has, of late, been 
strikingly exemplified by Mrs. Fry, and her coadjutors, in 
the prison at Newgate 



*228 



SERMON X. 



the character which he has made to stand most 
visibly out, in the great scheme and history of 
our redemption : and surely if there be one fea- 
ture of prominency more visible than another, 
it is the love of kindness. There appears to 
be no other possible way, by which a respond- 
ing affection can be deposited in the heart of 
man. Certain it is, that the law of love can- 
not be carried to its ascendency over us 
by storm. Authority cannot command it. 
Strength cannot implant it. Terror cannot 
charm it into existence. The threatenings of 
vengeance may stifle, or they may repel, but 
they never can woo this delicate principle of 
our nature, into a warm and confiding attach- 
ment. The human heart remains shut, in all 
its receptacles, against the force of these vari- 
ous applications ; and God, who knew what was 
in man, seems to have known, that in his dark 
and guilty bosom, there was but one solitary 
hold that he had over him ; and that to reach it, 
he must just put on a look of graciousness, and 
tell us that he has no pleasure in our death, 
and manifest towards us the longings of a be- 
reaved parent, and even humble himself to a 
suppliant in the cause of our return, and send 
a Gospel of peace into the world, and bid his 
messengers to bear throughout all its habita- 
tions, the tidings of his good-will to the chil- 
dren of men.* This is the topic of his most 
anxious and repeated demonstration. This 
manifested good-will of God to his creatures, is 
the band of love, and the cord of a man, by 



SERMON X. 



229 



which he draws them. It is true, that from the 
inaccessible throne of his glory, we see no di- 
rect emanation of his tenderness upon us, from 
the face of the King who is invisible. But, as 
if to make up for this, he sent his Son into the 
world, and declared him to be God manifest in 
the flesh, and let us see, in his tears, and in his 
sympathies, and in all the recorded traits of his 
kindness, and gentleness, and love, what a God 
we have to deal with It is true, that even in 
love to us, he did not let down one attribute of 
truth or of majesty which belonged to him. 
But, in love to us, he hath laid upon his own 
Son the burden of their vindication ; — and now, 
that every obstacle is done away ; now, that the 
barrier which lay across the path of acceptance, 
is levelled by the power of him who travailed 
in the greatness of his strength for us ; now, 
that the blood of atonement has been shed, and 
that the justice of God has been magnified, and 
that our iniquities have been placed on the 
great Sacrifice, and so borne away that there is 
no more mention of them ; now, that with his 
dignity entire, and his holiness untainted, the 
door of heaven may be opened, and sinners be 
called upon to enter in, — is the voice of a friend- 
ly and beseeching God, lifted up without re* 
serve, in the hearing of us all ; — his love of kind- 
ness is published abroad among men ; — and tmV 
one mighty principle of attraction is brought to 
bear upon a nature, that might have remained 
sullen and unmoved under every other appli- 
cation* 



230 



SERMON X, 



And, as God, in the measure of restoring a de- 
generate world unto himself, hath set in opera- 
tion the very same principle as that which we 
have attempted to illustrate, — so the operation 
hath produced the very same result that we have 
ascribed to it. As soon as his love of kindness 
is believed, so soon does the love of gratitude 
spring up in the heart of the believer. As soon 
as* man gives up his fear and his suspicion of 
God, and discerns him to be his friend, so soon 
does he render him the homage of a willing and 
affectionate loyalty. There is not a man who 
can say, I have known and believed the love 
which God hath to us, who cannot say also, I 
have loved God because he first loved me. 
There has not, we will venture to affirm, been 
a single example in the whole history of the 
church, of a man who had a real faith in the 
overtures of peace and of tenderness which are 
proposed by the Gospel, and who did not, at the 
same time, exemplify this attribute of the Chris- 
tain faith, that it worketh by love. It is thus 
that the faith which recognizes God, as God in 
Christ reconciling the world unto himself, lies 
at the turning point of conversion. In this 
way, and in this way alone, is there an inlet of 
communication open to the heart of man, for 
that principle of love to God, which gives all 
its power and all its character to the new obe- 
dience of the gospel. So soon as a man really 
knows the truth, and no man can be said to 
know what he does not believe, will this truth 
enthrone a new affection in his bosom, which 



SERMON X. 



231 



will set him free from the dominion of all such 
affections as are earthly and rebellious. The 
whole style and spirit of his obedience are 
transformed. The man now walks with the 
vigour, and the confidence, and the enlarge- 
ment, of one who is set at liberty. It looks a 
mysterious revolution in the general eye of the 
world. But the fact is, that from the moment 
a sinner closes with the overtures of the gospel, 
from that moment a new era is established in 
the history of his mind altogether. As soon as 
he sees what he never saw before, so soon does 
he feel what he never felt before. Without 
the faith of the gospel he may serve God in the 
spirit of bondage ; he may be driven, by the 
terrors of his law, into many outward and re- 
luctant conformities; he may even, without 
the influence of these terrors, maintain a thou- 
sand decencies of taste, and custom, and es- 
tablished observation. But he is still an utter 
stranger to the first and the greatest command- 
ment. There may be the homage of many a 
visible movement with the body, while, in the 
whole bent and disposition of the soul there is 
nothing but aversion, and distance, and enmity , 
Even the word of the gospel may be address- 
ed, Sabbath after Sabbath, and that too, to 
hearers who offer no positive resistance to it 
— but coming to them only in word, they re- 
main as motionless and unimpressed as ever, 
and with an utter dormancy in their hearts, as 
to any responding movement of gratitude. The 
heart, in fact, remains unapproachable in eve- 



232 



SERMON X. 



ry other way, but by the gospel coming to it, 
not in word only, but in power, and in the Ho- 
ly Ghost, and in much assurance. Then is it ? 
that the love of God is shed abroad in our 
hearts ; and that the gospel approves itself to 
be his power, and his wisdom, to the sanctifi- 
cation of all who believe in it 

Now, the theologians to whom we allude, 
have set up obstacles in the way of such a pro- 
cess. They hold a language about the disin- 
terested love of God, and demand this at the 
very outset of a man's conversion, in such a 
way, as may retard his entrance upon a life of 
faith, — as may have prolonged the darkness of 
many an inquirer, and have kept him in a state 
of despair, whom a right understanding of the 
gospel would have relieved of all hi s doubts, 
and all his perplexities. They seem to look 
on the love of gratitude, as having in it a taint 
of selfishness. They say that to love a being, 
because he is my benefactor, is little better 
than to love the benefit which he has confer- 
red upon me ; and that this, instead of any evi- 
dence of a state of grace, is the mere effect of 
an appetite which belongs essentially and uni- 
versally to the animal state of nature. They 
appear to have missed the distinction, between 
the love that is felt towards the benefit itself 
and the love of gratitude that is felt towards 
the author of it : though certainly there are 
here two objects of affection altogether dis- 
tinct from each other. My liking for the gift 
is a different phase of mind from my liking for- 



SERMON X. 233 

the giver. In the one exercise, I am looking to 
a different object, and my thoughts have a dif- 
ferent employment, from what they have in the 
other. Had 1 an affection for the gift, without 
an affection for the giver, then might I evince 
an unmixed selfishness of character. But I 
may have both ; and- my affection for the giver 
may be purely in obedience to that law of reci- 
procity, whereby if another likes me, Iamdispos* 
ed by that circumstance, and by that alone, to 
like him back again. The gift may serve merely 
the purpose of an indication. It is the medium 
through which I perceive the love that another 
bears me. But it is possible for me to perceive 
this through another medium, and, in this case, 
the rising gratitude of my bosom might look a 
purer and more disinterested emotion. But 
the truth is, that it retains the very same cha- 
racter, though a gift has been the occasion of 
its excitement, — and, therefore, it ought not to 
have been so assimilated to the principle of sel- 
fishness. It ought not to have been so discour- 
aged, and made the object of suspicion, at that 
moment of its evolution, when the returning sin- 
ner looks by faith to the truths and the pro- 
mises of the gospel, and sees in them the tender- 
ness of an inviting God. It ought not to have 
been so stigmatized, as a mere portion of his un- 
renewed nature; for, in truth, it will heighten 
and grow upon him, with every step in the ad- 
vancement of his moral renovation. It will be 
one of the gracefullest of his accomplishments 
30 



234 



SERMON X. 



in this world ; and so far from being extinguish- 
ed in the next, along with the baser and more 
selfish affections of our constitution, it will pour 
an animating spirit into many a song of ecstacy* 
to him who loved us, and washed us from our sins 
in his own blood. The law of love begetting 
love, will obtain in eternity. Like the law of re- 
ciprocal attraction in the material world, it will 
cement the immutable and everlasting order of 
that moral system, which is to emerge with the 
new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwell- 
eth righteousness The love which emanates 
from the throne of God, upon his surrounding 
family, will call back a voice of blessing, and 
thanksgiving, and glory, from all the members of 
it. And the love which his children bear to each 
other, will, in like manner, be reflected and 
multiplied. All that is wrong in selfishness 
will be there unknown. But gratitude, so far 
from being counted an unseemly companion 
for paradise ; will be one chief ingredient in the 
fulness of its joy ; one of the purest and most 
exquisite of those pleasures, which are for 
evermore. 

The first consideration then, upon which we 
would elevate gratitude to the rank of a virtue* 
is, that in its object, it is altogether distinct 
from selfishness. It is enough, indeed, to dis- 
solve the imagination of any kindred character 
between selfishness and gratitude, that the man 
without selfishness, seems to the eye of a be- 
holder, as standing on a lofty eminence of vir* 
tue : The man without gratitude, is held, by 



SERMON X. 



235 



all, to be a monster of deformity. Give me a 
man who seizes with ravenous appropriation 
all that I have to bestow, — and who hoards it, 
or feeds upon it, or, in any way rejoices over it, 
without one grateful movement of his heart to- 
wards me. — -and you lay before me a character, 
not merely unlike, but diametrically Opposite, 
to the character of him who obtains the very 
same gift, and perhaps, derives from the use of 
it, an equal, or a greater degree of enjoyment, 
to the sensitive part of his nature,— but who, 
in addition to all this, has thought, and affec- 
tion, and the higher principles of his nature, 
excited by the consideration of the giver ; and 
looks to the manifested love that appears in 
this act of generosity ; and is touched with love 
back again ; and, under the influence of this 
responding affection, conceives the kindest 
wishes, and pours out the warmest prayers, for 
the interest of his benefactor, and shows him 
all the symptoms of friendship, and surrounds 
him with all its services. 

The second consideration, upon which we 
would elevate gratitude to the rank of a pure; 
virtue, has already been glanced at. Were it not 
a virtue, it would have no place in heaven. 
Did it only appertain to the unrenewed part 
of our nature, it would find no admittance 
among the saints in paradise. But one of the 
songs of the redeemed, is a song of gratitude. 

And, thirdly, by looking more closely to this 
affection, both in its origin and in its exercises. 



236 



SERMON X. 



we shall perceive in it, more clearly, all the 
characteristics of virtue. 

Let it be remarked then, that an affection 
may simply exist, and yet be no evidence of 
any virtue, or of any moral worth in the holder 
of it. I may look on a beautiful prospect, and 
be drawn out to an involuntary sentiment of ad- 
miration. Or, I may look on my infant child, 
and, without one effort of volition, feel a paren- 
tal tenderness towards it. Or, I may be pre- 
sent at a scene of distress, and without choosing 
or willing it to be so, I may be moved to the 
softest compassion. And, in this way, I may 
have a character made up of many affections, 
some of which are tasteful, some of which are 
most amiable in themselves, and some of which 
are most useful to society; and yet, none of which 
may possess the smallest portion of the essential 
character of virtue. They may be brought in- 
to exercise, without any working of a sense of 
duty whatever. One of those we have specifi- 
ed — the instinctive affection of parents for 
their young, is exemplified in all its strength, 
and in all its tenderness, by the inferior ani- 
mals. And, therefore, if we want to know 
what that is which constitutes the character 
of virtue, or moral worth, in a human being, 
we must look to something else, than to the 
mere existence of certain affections, however 
valuable they may prove to others, or what- 
ever gracefulness they may shed over the com- 
plexion of him who possesses them. 

Now, it would be raising a collateral into a 



SERMON X. 



237 



main topic, were we to enter upon a full ex- 
planation of the matter that has now been sug- 
gested. And we shall, therefore, briefly re- 
mark, that to give the character of virtue to any 
grace of the inner man, the will, acting under 
a sense of duty, must, in some way or other, 
have been concerned, in the establishment, or 
in the continuance of it ; and that to give the 
same character of virtue to a deed of the outer 
man, the will must also be concerned. A deed 
is only virtuous in as far as it is voluntary; and 
it is only in proportion to the share which the 
will has in the performance of it, and the will 
impelling us to do, what we are persuaded 
ought to be done, that there can be awarded, 
to the deed in question, any character of moral 
estimation. 

This will explain what the circumstances are, 
under which the gratitude of a human being 
may at one time be an instinct, and at another 
time a virtue. I may enter the house of an in- 
dividual who is an utter stranger to the habit 
of acting under a sense of duty ; who is just as 
much the creature of mere impulse, as the ani- 
mals beneath him ; and who, therefore, though 
some of these impulses are more characteristic 
of his condition as a man, and most subservient 
to the good of his fellows, may be considered 
as possessing no virtue whatever, in the strict 
and proper sense of the term. But he has the 
property of being affected by external causes. 
And I, by some ministration of friendship, may 
flash upon his mind such an overpowering con- 



238 



SERMON X. 



viction of the good-will that I bear him, as to 
affect him with a sense of gratitude even unto 
tears. The moral obligation of gratitude may 
not be present to his mind at all. But the emo- 
tion of gratitude comes into his. heart unbid- 
den, and finds its vent in acknowledgments, 
and blessi- gs, on the person of his benefactor. 
We would say, of such a person, that he pos- 
sesses a happier original constitution than ano- 
ther, who, in the same circumstances, would not 
be so powerfully or so tenderly affected. And 
yet he may have hitherto evinced nothing 
more than the workings of a mere instinct, which 
springs spontaneously within him, and gives its 
own impulse to his words and his performan- 
ces, without a sense of duty having any share 
in the matter, or without the will prompting 
the individual by any such consideration, as, 
let me do this thing because I ought to do it. 

Let us now conceive the moral sense to be 
admitted to its share of influence over this pro- 
ceeding. Let it be consulted on the question 
of what ought to be felt, and w hat ought to be 
done, by one being, when another evinces the 
love of kindness towards him. A mere in- 
stinct may, in point of fact, draw out a return 
of love and of service back again. But it is 
the province of the moral sense to pronounce 
on the point of obligation, and we speak its 
universal suggestion, when we say, that the 
love of gratitude ought to be felt, and the ser- 
vices of gratitude ought to be rendered. 

Now, to make this decision of the moral 



SERMON X, 



239 



sense practically effectual, and, indeed, to make 
the moral sense have any thing to do with this 
question at all. the feeling of gratitude must, in 
i ome way or other, be dependent either for its 
existence, or its growth, or its continuance, up- 
on the will ; and the same wiilmust also have a 
command over the services of gratitude. The 
moral sense, in fact, never interposes with any 
dictate, or with any declaration about the 
feelings, or the conduct of man, unless in so far 
as the will of man has an influence, and a pow- 
er of regulation over them. It never makes the 
rate of the circulation of the blood a question 
of duty, because this is altogether an involun- 
tary movement. And it never would have of- 
fered any authoritative intimation, about the 
way in which gratitude ought to be felt, or 
ought to be expressed, unless the will had had 
some kind of presiding sovereignty over both 
the degree and the workings of this affection. 

The first way, then, in which the will may 
have to do with the love of gratitude, is by the 
putting forth of a desire for the possession of it. 
It may long to realize this moral accomplish- 
ment. It may hunger and thirst after this 
branch of righteousness. Even though it has 
not any such power under its command, as 
would enable it to fulfil such a volition, the vo- 
lition itself has, upon it, the stamp and the cha- 
racter of virtue. The man who habitually wills 
to have in his heart a love of gratitude towards 
God, is a man at least of holy desires, if not of 
holy attainments. And, when we consider that 



240 



SERMON X. 



a way has actually been established, in which 
the desire may be followed up by the attain- 
ment, — when we read of the promise given to 
those who seek after God, — when we learn the 
assurance that he will grant the heart's desire 
of those who wifl stir themselves up to lay hold 
of him, — when we think that prayer is the na- 
tural expression of desire for an object which 
man cannot reach, but which God is both able 
and willing to confer upon him, — then do we 
see how the very existence of the love of gra- 
titude may have had its pure and holy com- 
mencement, in such a habitude of the will as has 
the essential character of virtue engraven upon 
it. " Keep yourselves," says the Apostle, " in 
the love of God, by praying in the HolyGhost." 

But, again, there are certain doings of the 
mind, over which the will has a control, and by 
which the affection of gratitude may either be 
brought into being, or be sustained in lively and 
persevering exercise. At the bidding of the 
will, I can think of one topic f rather than of an- 
other. I can transfer my mind to any given ob- 
ject of contemplation. I can keep that object 
steadily in view, and make an effort to do so, 
when placed in such circumstances as might 
lead me to distraction or forgetfulness. And 
it is in this way that moral praise, or moral 
responsibility, may be attached to the love of 
gratitude. Ere the heart can be moved by this 
affection to another, there must be in the mind 
a certain appropriate object, that is fitted to call 
it, and to keep it, in existence, — and that object 



SERMON X, 



241 



is the love of kindness which the other bears 
me. I may endeavour, and I may succeed in 
the endeavour, to hold this love of kindness in 
daily and perpetual remembrance. If the will 
have to do with the exercises of thought and me* 
mory, then the will may be responsible for the 
gratitude that would spring in my bosom, did I 
only think of the love of God, and that would 
continue with me in the shape of an habitual 
affection, did I only keep that love in habitual 
remembrance. It is thus that the forgetfulness 
of God is chargeable with criminality, — and it 
will appear a righteous thing in the day of 
judgment, when they, who are thus forgetful 
of him, shall be turned into hell. It is this 
which arms, with such a moral and condem- 
natory force, the expostulation he holds with 
Israel, " that Israel doth not know, that my 
people do not consider." It is because we like 
not to retain God in our knowledge, that our 
minds become reprobate; — and, on the other 
hand, it is by a continuous effort of my will, 
towards the thought of him, that I forget not 
his benefits. It is by the strenuousness of a 
voluntary act, that I connect the idea of an un- 
seen benefactor, with all the blessings of my 
present lot, and all the anticipations of my 
futurity. It is by a combat with the most ur- 
gent propensities of nature, that I am ever 
looking beyond this surrounding materialism, 
and setting God and his love before me all the 
day lonsr. There is no virtue, it is allowed? 
31 



242 



SERMON X, 



without voluntary exertion; but this is the very 
character which runs throughout the whole 
work and exercise of faith. To keep himself 
in the love of God is a habit, with the mainte- 
nance of which the will of man has most essen- 
tially to do,because it is at his will that he keeps 
himself in thcthought of God's love towards 
him. To bid away from me such intrusions of 
sense, and of time, as would shut God out of 
my recollections ; to keep alive the impression 
of him in the midst of bustle, and company, and 
worldly avocations ; to recall the thought of" 
him and of his kindness, under crosses; and 
vexations, and annoyances; to be still, and 
know that he is God, even when beset with 
temptations to impatience and discontent; ne- 
ver to lose sight of him, as merciful and gra- 
cious; and above all, never to let go my hold of 
that great Propitiation, by which, in every time 
of trouble, I have the privilege of access with 
confidence to my reconciled Father; these are 
all so many acts of faith, but they are just such 
acts as the will bears a share, and a sovereignty, 
in the performance of. And, as they are the 
very acts which go to aliment and to sustain the 
love of gratitude within me, it may be seen, how 
an affection which, in the first instance, may 
spring involuntarily, and be therefore regarded 
as a mere instinct of nature, or as bearing up- 
on it a complexion of selfishness, may, in ano- 
ther view, have upon it a complexion of deep- 
est sacredness, and be rendered unto God in 
the shape of a duteous and devoted offering 



SERMON X, 



243 



from a voluntary agent,. and be, in fact, the la- 
borious result of a most difficult, and persever- 
ing, and pains-taking habit of obedience. 

And if this be true of the mere sense of gra- 
titude, it is still more obviously true of the ser- 
vices of gratitude. "What shall I render unto 
the Lord for all his benefits?" is the genuine 
language of this affection. It seeks to make a 
gratifying return of service, and that, under 
the feeling that it ought to do so. Or, in other 
words, do we behold that it is the will of man, 
prompted by a sense of duty, which leads him 
on to the obedience of gratitude, and that the 
whole of this obedience is pervaded by the es- 
sential character of virtue. This is the love of 
God, that ye keep his commandments. This 
is the most gratifying return unto him, that ye 
do those things which are pleasing in his sight. 
And thus it is, that the love of gratitude may 
be vindicated in its character of moral worth, 
from its first commencement in the heart to its 
ultimate effect on the walk and conversation. 
It is originally distinct from selfishness in its ob- 
ject; and it derives a virtuousness at its very 
outset, from the aspirations of a soul bent on 
the acquirement of it, because bent on being 
what it ought to be ; and it is sustained, both 
in life and in exercise, by such habits of thought 
as are of voluntary cultivation ; and it nobly 
sustains an aspect of moral righteousness on- 
wards to the final result of its operation on the 
character, by setting him who is under its pow- 
er, on a career of obedience to God, and in- 



244 



SERMON X. 



troducing him to an arduous contest of princi- 
ple, with all the influences of sense and of the 
world a 

If, to lender an affection virtuous, the will 
acting under a sense of duty, should be con- 
cerned either in producing or in perpetuating 
it ; then the love of moral esteem coming into 
the heart as an involuntrry sensation, may, in 
certain circumstances, have as little of the cha- 
racter of virtue as the love of gratitude. In 
this respect, both these affections are upon a 
footing with each other ; and the first ought not 
to have been exalted at the expense of the se- 
cond. That either be upheld within us in our 
present state, there must, in fact, be the put- 
ting forth of the same voluntary control over 
the thoughts and contemplations of the under- 
standing; the same active exercise of faith ; 
the same laborious resistance to all those ur- 
gencies of sense 'which would expel from the 
mind the idea of an unseen and spiritual ob- 
ject ; the same remembrance of God sustained 
by effort, and prayer, and meditation. 

II. We now feel ourselves in a condition to 
speak of the Gospel, in its free and gratuitous 
character ; to propose its blessings as a gift ; 
to hold out the pardon, and the strength, and 
all the other privileges which it proclaims to 
believers, as so many articles for their imme- 
diate acceptance ; to make it known to men 
that they are not to delay their compliance 
with the overtures of mercy, till the disinterest- 
ed love of God arises in their hearts ; but that 



SERMON X. 



215 



they have a warrant for entering even now, in- 
to instant reconciliation with God. Nor are 
we to dread the approach of any moral contami- 
nation, though when, after their eyes are open- 
ed to the marvellous spectacle of a pleading, 
and offering, and beseeching God, holding out 
eternal life unto the guilty, through the propi- 
tiation which his own Son hath made for them, 
they should, from that moment, open their 
whole soul, to the influences of gratitude, and 
love the God who thus hath first loved them. 

We conclude then with remarking, that the 
whole of this argument gives us another view 
of the importance of faith. We do not say all 
for it that we ought, when we say, that by faith 
we are justified in the sight of God. By faith 
also our hearts are purified. It is in fact the pri- 
mary and the presiding principle of regenera- 
tion. It brings the heart into contact with 
that influence, by which the \(j>ve of gratitude 
is awakened. The love of G6d to us, if it is 
not believed, will exert no more power over 
our affections, than if it were a nonentity. 
They are the preachers of faith, then, who 
alone deal out to their hearers, the elementary 
and pervading spirit of the Christian morality. 
And the men who have been stigmatized as the 
enemies of good works, are the very men, who 
are most sedulously employed in depositing 
within you, that good seed which has its fruit 
unto holiness. We are far from asserting, that 
the agency of grace is not concerned, in every 
step of that process, by which a sinner is con- 



246 



SERMON X. 



ducted from the outset of his conversion, to the 
state of being perfect, and complete in the 
whole will of God. But there is a harmony 
between the processes of grace and of nature ; 
and in the same manner, as in human society, 
the actual conviction of a neighbour's good- will 
to me, takes the precedency in point of order 
of any returning movement of gratitude, on my 
part, so, in the great concerns of our fellow- 
ship with God, my belief that he loves me, is 
an event prior and preparatory to the event of 
my loving him. So that the primary obstacle 
to the love of God is not the want of human 
gratitude, but the want of human faith. The 
reason why man is not excited to the love of 
God by the revelation of God's love to him, is 
just because he does not believe that revela- 
tion. This is the barrier which lies between 
the guilty, and their offended Lawgiver. It is 
not the ingratitude of man, but the incredulity 
of man, that needs, in the first instance, to be 
overcome. It is the sullenness, and the hard- 
ness, and the obstinacy of unbelief which 
stands as a gate of iron, between him and his 
enlargement. Could the kindness of God, in 
Christ Jesus, be seen by him, the softening of 
a kindness back again, would be felt by him. 
And let us cease to wonder, then, at the preach- 
ers of the gospel, when they lay upon belief all 
the stress of a fundamental operation ; — when 
they lavish so. much of their strength on the es- 
tablishment of a principle, which is not only 
initial, but indispensable ; when they try so 



SERMON X. 



247 



strenuously to charm that into existence, with- 
out which all the elements of a spiritual obedi- 
ence are in a state of dormancy or of death ; — 
when they labour at the only practicable way, 
by which the heart of a sinner can be touched, 
and attracted towards God ; — when they try 
so repeatedly, to hold and to fasten him, by 
that link which God himself hath put into their 
hands — and bring the mighty principle to bear 
upon their hearers, which any one of us may 
exemplify upon the poorest, and by which 
both Howard and Fry have tried with suc- 
cess, to soften and to reclaim the most worth™ 
less of mankind. 

This also suggests a practical direction to 
Christians, for keeping themselves in the love 
of God. They must keep themselves in the 
habit, and in the exercise of faith. They must 
hold fast that conviction in their minds, the 
.presence of which is indispensable to the keep- 
ing of that affection in their hearts. This is 
one of the methods recommended by the apos- 
tle Jude, when he tells his disciples to build 
themselves up on their most holy faith. This 
direction to you is both intelliglible and prac- 
ticable. Keep in view the truths which you 
have learned. Cherish that belief of them 
which you already possess. Recall them to 
your thoughts, and, in general, they will not 
come alone, but they will come accompanied 
by their own power, and their own evidence. 
You may as well think of maintaining a stead- 
fast attachment to your friend, after you havp 



248 



SERMON X. 



expunged from your memory all the demonstra- 
tions of kindness he ever bestowed upon you, 
as to think of keeping your heart in the love of 
God, after the thoughts and contemplations of 
the gospel have fled from it. It is just by 
holding these fast, and by building yourself up 
on their firm certainty, that you preserve this 
affection. Any man, versant in the matters of 
experimental religion, knows well what it is, 
when a blight and a barrenness come over the 
mind, and when, under the power of such a vi- 
sitation, it loses all sensibility towards God. 
There is, at that time, a hiding of his counte- 
nance, and you lose your hold of the manifest- 
ation of that love, wherewith God loved the 
world, even when he sent his only begotten 
Son into it, that we might live through him. 
You will recover a right frame, when you re- 
cover your hold of this consideration. If you 
want to recall the strayed affection to your 
heart — recall to your mind the departed ob- 
ject of contemplation. If you want to rein- 
state the'principle of love in your bosom — rein- 
state faith, and it will work by love. It is got 
at through the medium of believing, and trust- 
ing ; — Nor do we know a more summary, and 
at the same time, a more likly direction for li- 
ving a life of holy and heavenly affection, than 
that you should live a life of faith. 



SERMON XI. 



THE AFFECTION OF MORAL ESTEEM TOWARDS GOP, 



Psalm xxvii. 4. 

(i One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek 
after ; that 1 may dwell in the house of the Lord all the 
days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to 
enquire in his temple." 

In our last discourse we adverted to the effect 
of a certain theological speculation about love, 
in darkening the freeness of the gospel, and in- 
tercepting the direct influence of its overtures 
and its calls on the mind* of an enquirer. Ere 
we conceive the love of gratitude towards 
another, we must see in him the love of kind- 
ness towards us ; and thus, by those who have 
failed to distinguish between a love of the bene- 
fit, and a love of the benefactor, has the virtue \ 
of gratitude been resolved into the love of our- 
selves. And they have thought that there must 
surely be a purer affection than this, to mark 
the outset of the great transition from sin unto 
righteousness ; and the one they have specified 
32 



2oD 



SERMON XL 



is the disinterested love of God. They have 
given to this last affection a place so early, as 
to distract the attention of an enquirer from that 
which is primary. The invitation of " come 
and buy without money, and without price," is 
not heard by the sinner along with the exaction 
of loving God for himself, — of loving him, on 
account of his excellencies, — of loving him, be- 
cause he is lovely. Let us, therefore, try to as- 
certain whether even this love of moral esteem 
is not subordinate to the faith of the gospel; 
and whether it follows, that because this affec- 
tion forms so indispensable a part of godliness, 
faith should, on that account, be deposed from 
the place of antecedency which belongs to it. 

And here let it be most readily and most 
abundantly conceded, that we are not perfect 
ami complete, in the whole of God's will, till 
the love of moral esteem be in us, as well as the 
love of gratitude, — till *that principle, of which, 
by nature, we are utterly destitute, be made to 
arise in our hearts, and to have there a tho- 
rough establishment, and operation, — till we 
love God, not merely on account of his love to 
our persons, but on account of the glory, and 
the residing excellence, which meet the eye of 
the spiritual beholder, upon his own character. 
We are not preparing for heaven, — we shall be 
utterly incapable of sharing in the noblest of its 
enjoyments, — we shall not feel ourselves sur- 
rounded by an element of congeniality in para- 



SERMON XL 



2S£ 



dise, — there will be no happiness for us, even ia 
the neighbourhood of the throne of God, and 
with the moral lustre of the Godhead made 
visible to our eyes, if we are strangers to the 
emotion of loving God for himself, — if addi- 
tional altogether, to the consideration that God 
is looking with complacency upon me, I do not 
feel touched and attracted bj the beauties of his 
character, when I look with the eye of contem- 
plation towards him. I am without the most 
essential of all moral accomplishments in myself, 
if I am without the esteem of moral accomplish- 
ments in another ; and if my heart be of such a 
constitution that nothing in the character of 
God can draw my admiration, or my regard, to 
him — then, though admitted within the portals 
of the city which hath foundations, and remov- 
ed from the torments of hell, I am utterly unfit 
for the joys and the exercises of heaven. I may 
spend an eternity of exemption from pain, but 
without one rapture of positive felicity to bright- 
en it. Heaven, in fact, would be a wilderness 
to my heart and, in the midst of its acclaim- 
ing throng would I droop, and be in heaviness 
under a sense of perpetual dissolution. 

And let this convince us of the mighty tran- 
sition, that must be described by the men of this 
world, ere they are meet for the other world of 
the spirits of just men made perfect. It is not 
speaking of this transition, in terms too great 



252 



SERMON XL 



and too lofty, to say, that they must be born 
again, and made new creatures, and called out 
of darkness into a light that is marvellous. The 
truth is, that out of the pale of vital Christianity, 
there is not to be found among all the varieties 
of taste, and appetite, and sentimental admira- 
tion, any love for God as he is, — any relish for 
the holiness of his character, — any echoing tes- 
timony, in the bosom of alienated man, to what 
is graceful, or to what is venerable in the char- 
acter of the Deity. He may be feelingly alive 
to the beauties of what is seen, and what is sen- 
sible. The scenery of external nature may 
charm him. The sublimities of a surrounding 
materialism may kindle and dilate him with 
images of grandeur. Even the moralities of a 
fellow-creature may engage him; and these, with 
the works of genius, may fascinate him into an 
Idolatrous veneration of human power, or of 
human virtue. But while he thus luxuriates and 
delights himself with the forms of derived ex- 
cellence, there is no sensibility in his heart to- 
wards God. He rather prefers to keep by the 
things that are made, and, surrounded by them, 
to bury himself into a forgetfulness of his Ma- 
ker. He is most in his element, when in feeling, 
or in employment, he is most at a distance from 
God. There is a coldness, or a hatred, or a 
terror, which mixes up with all his contempla- 
tions of the Deity ; and gives to his mind a kind 
of sensitive recoil from the very thought of 



SERMON XI. 



253 



him. He would like to live always in the world, 
and be content with such felicity as it can give, 
and cares not, could he only get what his heart 
is set upon here, and be permitted to enjoy it 
for ever, though he. had no sight of God, and no 
fellowship with him through eternity. The 
event to which, of all others, he looks forward 
with the most revolting sense of aversion and 
dismay, is that event whiich is to bring him into 
a nearer contact with God, — which is to dissolve 
his present close relationship with the creature, 
and to conduct his disembodied spirit into the 
immediate presence of the Creator. There is 
nothing in death, in grim, odious, terrific 
death, that he less desires, or is more afraid of, 
than a nearer manifestation of the Deity. The 
world, in truth, the warm and the well known 
world, is his home ; and the men who live in it, 
and are as regardless of the Divinity as himself, 
form the whole of his companionship. Were 
it not for the fear of hell, he would shrink from 
heaven as a dull and melancholy exile. All 
its songs of glory to him who sitteth on the 
throne, would be to his heart a burden and a 
weariness ; — -and thus it is, that the foundation 
of every natural man has its place in that pe- 
rishable earth, from which death will soon car- 
ry him away, and which the fiery indignation 
of God will at length burn up ; and as to 
the being who endureth for ever, and with 
whom alone he has to do, he sees in him no 



254 



SERMON XL 



form nor comeliness, nor no beauty that he 
should desire him. 

Now, is not this due to the darkness of na- 
ture, as well as to the depravity of nature ? 
There is in our diseased constitution, a spirit- 
ual blindness to the excellencies of the God- 
head, as well as a spiritual disrelish for them. 
The truth is, that these two elements go u> 
gether in the sad progress of human degene- 
racy. Man liked not to retain God in his know- 
ledge, and God gave him over to a reprobate 
mind ; and again, man walking in vanity, and an 
enemy to God by wicked works, had his un- 
derstanding darkened, and was visited with ig- 
norance, and blindness of heart. We do not 
apprehend God, and therefore it is that we 
must be renewed in the knowledge of him, ere 
we can be formed again to the love of him. 
The natural man can no more admire the Deity 
through the obscurities in which he is shrouded, 
than he can admire a landscape which he never 
saw, and which at the time of his approach to it, 
is wrapped in the gloom of midnight. He can no 
more, with every effort to stir up his faculties 
to lay hold of him, catch an endearing view 
of the Deity, than his eye can by straining, 
penetrate its way through a darkened firmament, 
to the features of that material loveliness which 
lies before him, and around him. It must be 
lighted up to him, ere he can love it, or enjoy it, 
and tell us what the degree of his affection for 



SERMON XI. 



255 



the scenery would be, if instead of being lighted 
up by the peaceful approach of a summer morn, 
it were to blaze into sudden visibility, with all 
its cultivation and cottages, by the fires of a 
bursting volcano. Tell us, if all the glory and 
gracefulness of the landscape which had thus 
started into view, would charm the beholder 
for a moment, from the terrors of his coming 
destruction ! Tell us, if it is possible for a sen- 
tient being, to admit another thought in such 
circumstances as these, than the thought of his 
own preservation. O would not the sentiment 
of fear about himself, cast out every sentiment 
of love for all that he now saw, and were he 
only safe could look upon with exstacy ? — and 
let the beauty be as exquisite as it may, would 
not all the power and pleasure of its enchant- 
ments fly away from his bosom, were it only 
seen through the glowing fervency of elements 
that threatened to destroy him ? 

Let us now conceive, that through that thick 
spiritual darkness by which every child of na- 
ture is encompassed, there was forced upon 
him, a view of the countenance of the Deity,-— 
that the perfections of God were made visible,— 
and that the character on which the angels of 
paradise gaze with delight, because they there 
behold all the lineaments of moral grandeur, 
and moral loveliness, were placed before the eye 
of his mind, in bright and convincing manifes- 
tation. It is very true, that on what he would 



256 



SERMON XL 



be thus made to see, all that is fail* and mag- 
nificent are assembled, — that whatever of great- 
ness, or whatever of beauty can be found in 
creation, is but a faint and shadowy transcript 
of that original substantial excellence, which 
resides in the conceptions of him who is the 
fountain of being, — that all the pleasing of good- 
ness, and all the venerable of worth, and all the 
sovereign command of moral dignity meet and 
are realised on the person of God, — that through 
the whole range of universal existence, there 
cannot be devised a single feature of excel- 
lence, which does not serve to enrich the cha- 
racter of him who sustains all things, and who 
originated all things. No wonder that the pure 
eye of an angel takes in such fulness of plea- 
sure from a contemplation so ravishing. But 
let all this burst upon the eye of a sinner, and 
let the truth and the righteousness of God out of 
Christ stand before it in visible array, along with 
the other glories of character which belong to 
him. The love of moral esteem, you may say, 
ought to arise in his bosom ; — but it cannot. 
The affection is in such circumstances impos- 
sible. The man is in terror. And he can no 
more look with complacency upon his God, 
than he can delight himself with the fair forms 
of a landscape, opened to his view, by the flashes 
of an impending volcano. He cannot draw 
an emotion so sweet, and delightful as love, from 
the view of that countenance, on which he be- 



SERMON XL 



25? 



holds a purpose of vengeance against himself, as 
one of the children of iniquity. The fear which 
hath torment casteth out this affection altoge- 
ther. There is positively no room for it within 
the bosom of a sentient being, along with the 
dread, and the alarm by which he is agitated. It 
is this which explains the recoil of his sinful na- 
ture, from the thought of God. The sense of 
guilt comes into his heart, and the terrors and 
the agitations of guilt come along with it. It 
is because he sees the justice of God frowning 
upon him, and the truth of God pledged to the 
execution of its threatenings against him, and 
the holiness of God, which cannot look upon 
him without abhorrence, and all the sacred at- 
tributes of a nature that is jealous, and un- 
changeable, leagued against him for his everlast- 
ing destruction. He cannof love the Being, 
with the very idea of whom there is mixed up 
a sense of danger, and a dread of condemnation, 
and all the images of a wretched eternity. We 
cannot love God, so long as we look upon him 
as an enemy armed to destroy us. Ere we love 
him r we must be made to feel the security, 
and the enlargements one who knows him- 
self to be safe. Let him take his rod away 
from me, and let not his fear, terrify me, — and 
then may I love him and not fear him ; but it is 
not so with me. 

But let him who commanded the light to 
shine out of darkness, shine in our hearts 

33 



268 



SERMON XI. 



to give us the light of the knowledge of his Own 
glory, in the face of Jesus Christ, — let us only 
look upon him as God in Christ reconciling 
the world unto himself, and not imputing unto 
them their trespasses, — let him without expung- 
ing the characters of truth, and majesty, from 
that one aspect of perfect excellence which be- 
longs to him, — let him in his own unsearchable 
wisdom devise a way, by which he can both 
bring them out in the eye of sinners with bright- 
er illustration, and make these sinners feel, that 
they*are safe, — let him lift off from the men of 
this guilty world, the burden of his violated law, 
and cause it to be borne by another who can 
magnify that law, and make it honourable, — let 
him publish a full release from all its penalties, 
but in such a way, as that the truth which pro- 
claimed them, and the justice which should 
execute them, shall remain untainted under 
this dispensation of mercy, — let him instead of 
awaking the sword of vengeance against us, 
awake it against a sufferer of such worth and 
such dignity, that his blood shall be the atone- 
ment of a world, and by pouring out his soul 
unto the death, he shall ititeke the pardon of the 
transgressor meet, and be at one with the ever- 
lasting righteousness of God, — in a word, in- 
stead of the character of God being lighted up 
to the eye of the sinner, by the fire of his own 
indignation, let it through the demonstration 
of the Spirit be illustrated, and shone upon, by 



SERMON XL 



259 



the mild, but peaceful light of the Sun of right- 
eousness, and thetf may the sinner look in 
peace, and safety, on the manifested character 
of the Godhead. Delivered from the burden of 
his fears, he may now open his whole heart to 
the influences of affection. And that love of 
moral esteem, which before the entrance of the 
faith of the gospel, the sense of condemnation 
was sure to scare away, is now free to take its 
place beside the love of gratitude, and to arise 
along with it, in the offering of one spiritual 
sacrifice to a reconciled Father. 

Thus, then, it would appear, that the love of 
moral esteem is in every way as much posterior, 
and subordinate to faith, as is the love of grati- 
tude. That we may be able to love God, either 
according to the one or the other of its modifi- 
cations, we must first know that God loved us. 
We cannot harbour this affection in any one shape 
whatever, so long as there is the suspicion, and 
the dread of a yet unsettled controversy be- 
tween us and God. Peace with our offended 
Lawgiver, is not the fruit of our love, but of our 
faith ; — and faith if it be a reality, and not a 
semblance, worketh by love. We have peace 
with God through Jesus Christ our Lord, — 
And we love much when we know, and believe, 
that our sins are forgiven us. 

God did: not"| wait for any returning affection 
on the p art of a guilty world,[ere he felt an af- 
fection for it himself. At that period when he 



260 SERMON XL 



so loved the world, as to send his only begotten 
Son into it, — did it exhibit the spectacle of an 
immense prison-house of depravity. Among 
the men of it, there was friendship one for ano- 
ther, but there was one unalleviated character 
of enmity against God. Measuring themselves 
by themselves, there was often a high mutual 
esteem for such accomplishments, as were in 
demand for the good of society ; — but that 
which is highly esteemed among men, is in 
God's sight an abomination ; and when brought 
to the measure of that universal righteousness 
which forms the standard and rule of Heaven's 
government, was it found that our species, had 
through all its generations broken off from their 
allegiance, and stood at as wide a distance from 
the obedient, and unfallen creation, as does a 
colony of convicts, from the country which has 
cast them out of its borders. And it was at 
such a time, when the world liked not to retain 
God in their knowledge, — when all flesh had 
corrupted their ways, — when there was none 
seeking after God, — when there was not the 
thought, or the wish, of a movement to him back 
again, that he looked with pity on our fallen 
race, and in the fulness of time, sent his Son 
into the world to seek and to save us. 

And the same is true of every individual to 
whom the overtures of reconciliation are pro- 
posed. God does not wait for any change of 
affection in our heart, ere we accept of pardon 



SERMON XI. 261 

at his hands. But he asks one and all of us 
now to accept of pardon, and to submit our 
heart and character to the influences of that 
grace which he is ready to bestow upon us. In 
the gospel he proclaims a pardon ready made for 
you, a deed of amnesty which he is even now 
stretching out for your acceptance, a prevent- 
ing offer of mercy, of which if you believe the 
reality, you will feel that he is your friend, and 
in which feeling you will not be disappointed. 
He. does not expect from you the love of grati- 
tude, till you have known, and believed the 
great things that he hath done for you. But 
he expects from you the offering of an homage 
to his truth. He does not expect from you 
the love of moral esteem, till, released from the 
terror of having him for your enemy, you may 
contemplate with all the tranquil calmness of 
conscious safety, the glories and the graces of 
his manifested character. But he expects from 
you faith in his declaration, that he is not your 
enemy, — that he has no pleasure in your death, 
— that in Christ he is beseeching you to be re- 
conciled, — and stretching out to you the arms 
of invitation. 

The first matter on hand, then, between God 
and sinners, in the work of making reconcilia- 
tion, is, that they believe in him. It is, that the 
tidings of great joy shall fall upon them with 
credit, and acceptance. It is, that they count 
the sayings of the word of this life to be faith- 



262 SERMON XI, 



ful sayings. It is, that they put faith in the re- 
cord which God hath given of his Son, which 
if they do, they will believe that God hath 
given them eternal life, and that this life is in his 
Son. 

There is a certain speculation about the dis- 
interested love of God, which has served to 
darken and to embarrass this process. It has 
cast an unmerited stigma on the love of grati- 
tude. But its Worst effect, by far, is, that it has 
impeded the freeness of the overtures of tlje 
gospel. It has perplexed the outset of many an 
enquirer. It has made him search in his ow r n 
mind for the evidences of an affection, which 
he never can meet with, till he embrace the 
offers, and rely upon the promises of the New 
Testament. It has deposed faith from that post 
of presiding supremacy which belongs to it, 
and shifted from its place that great principle 
on which both the love of gratitude, and the 
love of moral esteem are suspended. 

Let us cease to wonder, then, why faith oc- 
cupies so much the station of a preliminary in 
the New Testament It is the great starting- 
point, as it were, of Christian discipleship. Grant 
but this principle, and love, with all the vi- 
gour, and all the alacrity which it gives to obe- 
dience, will emerge from its operation. There 
is no other way, in fact, of charming love into 
existence ; and the gratitude which devotes me 
to the service of a reconciled God, and the love 



SERMON XI. 



268 



of his character, which makes me meet for the 
enjoyment of him in heaven, can only arise in 
my bosom after I have believed. 

Let this consideration shut you up unto the 
faith. Let it exalt, in your estimation, the 
mighty importance of a principle, without which 
there can neither be any sanctification here, nor 
any salvation hereafter. Think it not enough 
that you import it into your mind as a bare ex- 
istence. Know what it is to put it into habitual 
exercise, to dwell upon the truths which it em- 
braces, and to submit, in feeling and practice, 
to their genuine operation. This is the only 
way in which you can ever live a life of faith 
on the Son of God, — or live by the power of a 
world to come, — or keep yourselves in the love 
of God, seeing that it is only when you know 
and believe that God first loved you, that you 
can be made to love him. 



In the progress of these observations, a few 
thoughts have occurred, which we trust may 
be deemed of sufficient importance to be brought 
forward, — and which we bring forward now, as 
supplementary to the whole argument. 

It will have been remarked, that we do not 
consider man as altogether incapable of the love 
of moral esteem towards any being whatever. 
There are certain virtues of character which do 



264 SERMON XI. 



call forth the admiration and the tenderness, even 
of our diseased nature, when they reside some- 
where else than in the person of the Deity. 
Let our depravity be what it may, it were in the 
face of all observation to affirm, that man does 
not love truth rather than falsehood, and compas- 
sion rather than cruelty, in a fellow-man, — and 
the interesting question comes to be, how is it 
that these qualities appear to lose all the force 
which naturally belongs to them, of attracting 
our regard, so as to awaken no such sentiment 
towards God, though they be exemplified by 
him, in a degree that is infinite ? 

It will help us, in part, to resolve this ques- 
tion, if we conceive of our man of moral virtues, 
that his very truth, and justice, and compassion, 
lead him, in the defence of wronged or calumni- 
ated innocence, to turn the whole force of his 
indignation on the head of an oppressor; and 
then think of the feeling which will arise, of 
consequence, in the heart of the latter. It will 
be a feeling of hatred and antipathy. And yet 
we do not see far into the secrecies of the hu- 
man constitution, if we do not perceive, that, in 
perfect consistency with this feeling of personal 
dislike to the man of virtue, who is hostile to 
him, there may exist, even in his vitiated soul, 
the love of moral esteem toward virtue residing 
in some other quarter, or exemplified by some 
other individual. Instead of this virtue being 
realized on the person of one who is an enemy 



SERMON XI. 



mo 



to myself, let it be offered by description to my 
notice, in the person of one who lives in a dis- 
tant country, or who lived in a distant age, and 
let the thought of my particular adversary be not 
offensively suggested to my mind by such a con- 
templation, — and I, with all those depravities 
which have provoked the resentment of my up- 
right neighbour against me, and have called forth 
in my heart a corresponding hatred towards him, 
will offer the homage of my regard and reve- 
rence towards the picture of moral excellence, 
that is thus set before me. This may look an 
anomalous exhibition of our nature ; but it cer- 
tainly is not more so, than the well-known fact 
of a slave proprietor, at one time wreaking his 
caprice and his cruelty on the living men who 
are around him, and at another weeping, in all 
the softness of pathetic emotion, over the dis- 
tresses of a fictitious narrative. Distress in one 
quarter may move our pity. Distress in another 
may be inflicted by our own hand, to glut our 
vindictive propensities. Worth, in the person 
of one who is indifferent, and still more of one 
who is friendly, may call forth our warm and 
honest acknowledgments. Worth, in the per- 
son of another, the very principles of whose 
character have moved him to irritate our pride, 
or to wound our selfishness, may turn him into 
the object of our most passionate, determined? 
and unrelenting hostility. 

34 



SERMON XI. 



And thus it is, that I may have a natural taste 
for several of the virtues which enter into the 
Godhead, and, at the same time, may have a 
hatred towards the person of the Godhead. — j 
This natural taste may be regarded by some, as 
a predisposing element in my heart towards the 
love of God ; but so long a& I view him armed 
in righteousness to destroy me, will this as ef- 
fectually repress the embryo affection, as if still 
it were fast slumbering in the depths of nonen- 
tity. It is willingly admitted, that there are 
certain partial sketches of the character of the 
Deity, which, if offered to our notice, in a state 
of separation from his anger against us the 
children of disobedience, would kindle in our 
bosoms a feeling of tasteful admiration. But 
the dread f or the suspicion of his anger absorbs 
this feeling altogether ; and however much we 
may bear the semblance of love for his charac- 
ter, when we look to certain traits of it in a 
detached and broken exhibition, — yet this is 
perfectly consistent with the fact, that the natu- 
ral mind hates the person of the Deity, — that 
the natural mind is enmity against God. And 
this ought to convince us, that even though 
there should be predisposing elements of love 
to him for his worth, it is still indispensable, in 
order to change our hatred into affection, that 
we should look upon God as having ceased 
from his anger, or that we should see him ar- 
rayed in all the tenderness of offered and invit- 



SERMON XL 



267 



ing friendship. There is a spell by which these 
elements are fastened, and which can never be 
done away, till God woo me to friendship and 
confidence, by an exhibition of good will. Faith 
in the cross of Christ, is the primary step of this 
approximation. To call for a disinterested af- 
fection towards God, from one who looks upon 
God as an adversary, and that even though 
there should be in his bosom the undeveloped 
seeds of regard to the worth or character of the 
Supreme, is to make a demand on a sentient 
being, which, by his very constitution, he is un- 
able to meet or to satisfy. And is not this de- 
mand still more preposterous, when it comes 
from a quarter where the depravity of man is 
held to be so entire, that not one latent or pre- 
disposing element towards the love of God is 
ascribed to him ? Is it not a still vainer expec- 
tation to think, in such hopeless circumstances 
as these, that ere man seizes the gift of redemp- 
tion, he shall import into his character the grace 
of a pure and spiritual affection ; that with the 
terror of his bosom yet unpacified, and the 
countenance of God upon him as unrelenting as 
ever, there shall arise, in the midst of all this 
agitation, a love to that Being, the very thought 
of whom brings a sense of insecurity along with 
it; or that a guilty creature, who, even if he 
had in a state of dormancy within him the prin- 
ciples of moral regard to the Divinity, could 
not, under the burden of wrath still unappeased 9 



268 SERMON XI. 

charm these principles, out of the state of theii 
inaction, — that he, even were he utterly desti- 
tute of these principles, should he able, under 
this burden, to charm them out of the state of 
non-existence ? 

And this, bj the way, may serve to show the 
whole amount of that tasteful sentimentalism, in 
virtue of which, a transient but treacherous and 
hollow regard towards the Divinity, may be de- 
tected in the hearts of those who nauseate the 
whole spirit and contents of the gospel. They 
admit into their contemplation only as much of 
the character of God, as may serve to make out 
a tender or an engaging exhibition of him. 
They may leave entire the ground-work of his 
natural attributes ; but, in every survey they 
take of the moral complexion of the Godhead, 
they refuse to look to all his moral attributes 
put together, and only fasten their regard upon 
one of them, even the attribute of indulgence. 
They cannot endure the view of his whole char- 
acter ; and should this view ever intrude itself, it 
puts to flight all the pathos and elegance of mere 
natural piety. Truth, as directed against them- 
selves; Holiness, as refusing to dwell in peace- 
ful or approving fellowship with themselves ; Jus- 
tice, as committed to a sentence of severe and in- 
flexible retribution upon themselves, — all these 
are out of their contemplation at that moment, 
when the votaries of a poetical theism feel to- 
wards their imagined deity an evanescent glow 



SERMON XL 269 

of affection or reverence. But truth and con- 
science are ever meddling with this enjoyment ; 
and piety resting on so frail and partial a foun- 
dation, never can attain an habitual ascendency 
over the character; and what at the best is fic- 
titious, does not, and ought not, to have more 
than a rare and a little hour of emotion given to 
it; and this may explain how it is, that with the 
very same individual, there may be both an oc- 
casional recurrence of devotional feeling, and a 
life of rooted and practical ungodliness. An illu- 
sory representation of God will no more draw 
away our affections from the world, or engage 
us in the solid and experimental business of 
obedience to its Maker, than the flippancy of a 
novel will practically influence the habits of na- 
ture, or of society. And thus it is, that the re- 
ligion which is apart from Christianity, falls as 
far short of true religion, as the humanity we 
have just quoted, falls short of true humanity. 

But to return. We have already said, that 
even though there did exist in the heart of man 
a native regard to certain ingredients of worth 
in the character of the Divinity, a previous ex- 
hibition of good will is still essential, that the 
person of the Divinity may be endeared to 
him. And the argument for such a priority, 
becomes much stronger, when it is made out, 
on a farther attention to this matter, that there 
is, in fact, no such native or predisposing re- 
gard. For, though it be true, that there are 



270 



SERMON XL 



certain moral virtues, which, when realized upon 
man, draw towards them the love and the re- 
verence even of our depraved nature, and which, 
when heightened into perfection upon God, 
should therefore, it might be conceived, obtain 
from nature, if placed in favourable circumstan- 
ces, the homage of a love still more tender, and 
of a reverence still more profound ; — yet there 
is one great and comprehensive quality by which 
all the moral attributes of the Godhead are per- 
vaded, and for which, we can detect no native 
and no kindred principle of attachment what- 
r ever, in the constitution of our species. We 
allude to the holiness of the Godhead. Were 
we asked to define this holiness, we should feel 
that we were not giving to the term its full sig- 
nificancy, by saying, that it merely consisted in 
the absolute perfection of all the moral virtues 
of the Divinity. It is a term, which, in the 
appropriate force of it, denotes contrast or se- 
paration. It was for this reason assigned to 
the vessels of the temple, and just because they 
were set apart from common use. To have 
made them common, would have been to make 
them unclean, or unholy. To have turned them 
to any ordinary or household purposes, would 
have been to inflict upon them such a touch of 
profanation, that their holiness would have de- 
parted from them. Had there been a full and 
perfect sense of God in every house, and in every 
heart, — had the presence of the Divinity been 



SERMON XL 271 

equally felt by his creatures at all times, and in 
all places, — had the will of the Divinity held as 
presiding an influence over the every-day doings, 
as over the services of the solemn and extraor- 
dinary occasion, — then there might have been 
no temple, and no ritual observation, and, of con- 
sequence, no room for such an application of 
the term holiness. A thing is not consecrated 
by being set apart from that which is equally 
pure and sacred with itself; and did there obtain 
an equal and universal purity throughout the 
whole system of nature, there could be no need 
for separation. In these circumstances there 
would have been no contrast, and, therefore, no 
demand for such a term as that of holiness. 

This may serve to illustrate the force and im- 
port of the term, as applied to the character of 
God. It does not signify the moral perfection 
of his character, taken absolutely. It signifies 
this perfection in relation to its opposite. When 
we look to the holiness of the divine character, 
we look to it in its aspect of lofty separation 
from all that can either taint or debase it. We 
look to its irreconcilable variance witfi sin. We 
look to the inaccessible height at which it 
stands above all the possible acquirements of 
created nature, insomuch, that he who possesses 
it, charges even his angels with folly : and when 
created nature is not only imperfect, but sinful? 
we then look to the recoil of the Divinity from 
all contact, and from all approximation. We 



# 

272 SERMON XL 

think of the purer eyes than can behold iniquity, 
and of the presence so sacred, that evil cannot 
dwell with it We think of that sanctuary into 
which there cannot enter any thing that defileth, 
or that maketh a lie, — a sanctuary guarded by 
all the jealousies of the Divine nature, and so 
repugnant to the approach of pollution, that if 
it offer to draw nigh, the fire of a consuming 
indignation will either check, or will destroy it. 

Now, were the whole severity of this attri- 
bute directed against the violations of social 
kindness, and social equity,. w r e would admit 
that there was a ready coalescence with it in 
the principles of our natural constitution. But 
when it searches into the character of the most 
urgent affections of nature, and there detects 
the very essence of sinfulness ; — when it sits in 
judgment over the preference given by every 
child of Adam to the creature, rather than the 
Creator, and holds this in righteous abomination ; 
— when it looks through a society of human be- 
ings, and pronounces, in spite of all the justice 
by which its. interests are guarded, and of all 
the humanity by which its ills are softened, or 
done away, that, wholly given over to the en- 
joyment of the world, it is wholly immersed in 
the guilt of an idolatry, by which the jealousies 
of the supreme and spiritual God are provoked 
to the uttermost; — when holiness is thus seen, 
not merely in its antipathy to crime, which is 
occasional and rare, but in its antipathy to an 



SERMON XI. 



273 



affection, the rooted obstinacy of which, and 
the engrossing power of which, are univer- 
sal—then so far from the coalescence of ap- 
proving nature, do we behold the revolt of 
pained and irritated nature. It no more fol- 
lows, because man loathes the cruelty or the in- 
justice of his fellow-man, that he therefore car- 
ries in his heart a predisposing element of re- 
gard for the essential character of God, than it 
follows, because a man would sicken with dis- 
gust at the atrocities of a prison-house, that he 
therefore feels his element and his joy to be in 
the humble piety of a conventicle. A high- 
minded and an honourable merchant finds room 
in his bosom for the love both of truth and of 
the world. Yet the one is an attribute of God, 
while the love of the other is opposite to the 
love of God. " If any man love the world," 
says an apostle, " the love of the Father is not 
in him." He may like the transcript of truth, 
and of many other virtues on the face of the 
creature, but he likes not the Creator. He can 
gaze, and that even with rapture, on the partial 
and imperfect sketches of the unfinished copy, 
but he shrinks from the view of the entire ori- 
ginal. He can hold the intercourse of wistful 
thoughts, and fervent aspiration, with, the 
absent object of his earthly regard, but he has 
neither taste nor capacity for communion with 
his Father in heaven. " Holy, holy, holy, Lord 
God, Almighty," is the anthem of the celes- 

35 



274 



SERMON XL 



tial, but theirs is a delight which he cannot 
share in. And as surely as his body would 
need to be transformed, ere it could cease to 
have pain • amid the agonies of hell, — so surely 
would his mind need to be transformed, ere it 
ceased to feel a confinement and an irksomeness 
amid the halleluiahs of paradise. 

Even though man, then, had in his heart a 
nascent affection for the character of God, this 
would be restrained from passing onwards to an 
affection for his person, by a sense of guilt, 
and the consequent dread of God as an enemy. 
Nor could the love of God be inserted in his 
bosom, till by faith in the expiation of the gos- 
pel, that which letteth was taken out of the 
way. But still more, if, in conformity to our 
present argument, there be no such nascent 
affection for the Divine character, is it hopeless 
to attempt the establishment of love antece- 
dently to belief, or that attachment should take 
possession of the heart, ere fear takes its depar- 
ture away from it. Even if by the working of 
some power unknown in the human constitution, 
or by some effort, the success of which has ne- 
ver ye{, in a single instance, been experienced, 
there could be made to arise in the soul, the 
love of holiness, previous to the act of trusting 
in the offered Saviour, — a terror at God, which, 
in the absence of this trust, is the instinctive 
and universal feeling of nature, would just as 
effectually repress the love of holiness, as it 



SERMON XL 275 



does the love of truth, or of compassion, or of 
justice, from carrying us onwards to a regard for 
the person of the Godhead. To put the love of 
God's character into a heart not yet brought in- 
to enlargement by the faith of the gospel, would 
just be to put it into a prison-hold, and there to 
chain it down to a fruitlessness and inactivity, 
where it would be wholly unproductive of love 
to God himself. Confidence must take the pre- 
cedency of this love, even in a bosom already 
furnished with the preparatory elements of af- 
fection; and how much more essential then 
is it, that it should take the precedency in a 
bosom, where these elements are altogether 
wanting ? Faith is thus more strongly evinced 
to be a thing of prior and indispensable ne- 
cessity. Without it, even the seed of any pre- 
cious affection for the Godhead, stifled in em- 
bryo, would not blow into luxuriance. And if 
our nature be such a wilderness that no seed is 
there, — if the thing w T anted be the germination 
of a new principle, and not the development of 
an old, — if it be by a creative and not by a 
mere fostering process, that we are transformed 
into a meetness for heaven,— if the agency that 
is made to bear upon the human soul, must 
have a power to regenerate as well as to repair, 
— and if the promise of this agency be given 
only to those who believe, then let us no more 
linger, or be bewildered, in that abyss of help- 
lessness from which faith alone can extricate the 



276 SERMON XI. 



enquirer, — let us no longer arrest the eye o£ 
confidence from that demonstration of good will, 
which is held out to the most widely alienated 
of sinners, — but hasten to plaee ourselves, even 
now, on that foundation of trust, where alone 
we are made the workmanship of God in Christ 
Jesus* and the love of God is shed abroad in our 
hearts by the Holy Ghost. 

" Destroy this temple," says the Saviour, " and 
I will raise it up again in three days." It is there 
alone that we can behold the beauty of the Lord 
and be safe. This place of greatest security, is 
also the place of chiefest glory. It is when ad- 
mitted into this greater and more perfect taber- 
nacle, that we can look on majesty without ter- 
ror, and on holiness without an overwhelming 
sense of condemnation. The sinner encircled in 
mercy look in tranquil contemplation on all that 
is awful and venerable in the character of the 
Godhead, — and never do truth, and righteous- 
ness, and purity, appear in loftier exhibition be- 
fore him, than when; withheld from his own 
person, he sees the whole burden of their aveng- 
ing laid upon the head of the great Sacrifice. 

" One thing have I desired of the Lord," says 
the Psalmist, " that I may dwell in the courts 
of the Lord, all the days of my life, to behold 
the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his 
temple." It is not till we are within the por- 
tals of the place of refuge that this desire can 
obtain its fulfilment. Selfishness may have 



SERMON XI. 



277 



originated the movement which took us there, 
The fear of the coming wrath may have lent 
celerity to our footsteps. A joyful sense of de- 
liverance may have been felt, ere the glories of 
the divine character were seen in bright and 
convincing manifestation. The love of grati- 
tude may have kindled within us, — and, with the 
Psalmist, we may have to seek, and to enquire, 
and to have daily exercise and meditation, ere 
the love of moral esteem has attained the place 
of ascendency which b elongs to it. Neverthe- 
less, the chief end of man is to glorify God, and 
to enjoy him for ever. This is the real destina- 
tion of every individual who is redeemed from 
among men. This should be the main object of 
all his prayers, and all his preparations. It is 
this which fits him for the company of heaven ; 
and unless there be a growing taste for God, 
in the glories of his excellency, — for God, in the 
beauties of his holiness, — there is no ripening, 
and no perfecting, for the mansions of immor- 
tality. Though you have to combat, then, with 
the sluggishness of sense, and with the real 
aversion of nature to every spiritual exercise, 
you must attempt, and strenuously cultivate, the 
habit of communion with God. And as no 
man knoweth the Father save the Son reveal 
him, and as it is by the Spirit that Christ gives 
light to those who believe in him ; — for the at- 
tainment of this great moral and spiritual ac- 
complishment, do what the Apostle directs you, 



278 



SERMON XI. 



when he says, a Keep yourselves in* the love of 
God, by praying in the Holy Ghost." Your first 
endeavours may be feeble, and fatiguing, and fruit- 
less. But God will not despise the day of small 
things, — nor .will the light of his countenance be 
always withheld from those who aspire after it, 
— nor will the soul that thirsts after God, be 
left for ever unsatisfied, — and the life and peace 
of being spiritually minded, will come in licit 
experience to his feelings, — and the whole habit 
of his tastes and enjoyments, will be in diame- 
tric opposition to that of the children of the 
world,— God being the habitation to which he 
resorts continually, — -God being the strength 
of his heart, and his portion for evermore. 



SERMON XII. 



THE EMPTINESS OF NATURAL VIRTUE* 



John v. 24. 

* But I knqw you, that ye have not the love of God in you. 55 

When it is said, in a former verse of the gos- 
pel, that Jesus knew what was in man, we feel, 
that it is a tribute of acknowledgment, ren- 
dered to his superior insight, into the secrecies 
of our constitution. It was not the mere fa- 
culty of perceiving what lay before him, that 
was ascribed to him by the Evangelist. It 
was the faculty of perceiving what lay dis- 
guised under a semblance, that would have 
imposed on the understanding of other men. It 
was the faculty of detecting. It was a dis- 
cerning of the spirit, and that not through 
the transparency of such unequivocal symp- 
toms, as brought its character clearly home to 
the view of the observer. But it was a dis- 
cerning of the spirit, as it lay wrapt in what, 
to an ordinary spectator, was a thick and im- 
penetrable hiding place. It was a discovery 



280 



SERMON XII. 



there of the real posture and habitude of the 
soul. It was a searching of it out, through all 
the recesses of duplicity, winding and counter- 
winding in such a way, as to elude altogether 
the eye of common acquaintanceship. It was 
the assigning to it of one attribute, at the time 
when it wore the guise of another attribute, — of 
utter antipathy to the nature and design of his 
mission, at the very time that multitudes were 
drawn around him, by the fame of his mira- 
cles, — of utter indifference about God, at the 
very time that they zealously asserted the sanc- 
tity of his sabbaths, and resented as blasphe- 
mous, whatever they felt to be an usurpation of 
the greatness which belonged to him only. 

It was in the exercise of this faculty, that 
Jesus came forward with the utterance of our 
text. The Jews, by whom he was surrounded, 
had charged him with the guilt of profanation, 
and sought even to avenge it by his death, be- 
cause he had healed a man on the sabbath day. 
And their desire of vengeance was still more 
inflamed, by what they understood to be an as- 
sertion, on his part, of equality with God. And 
yet, under all this appearance, and even with all 
this reality of a zeal about God, did he who 
knew what was in man, pronounce of these his 
enemies, that the love of God was not in them. 
I know you, says he, — as if at tins instant he had 
put forth a stretch of penetration, in order to find 
his way through all the sounds of godliness which 



SERMON XII. 281 



he heard, and through all the symptoms of god- 
liness which he saw, — I know that there does not 
exist within you that principle, which links to 
God, the whole of God's obedient creation, — 
I know that you do not love him, and that, 
therefore, you are utterly in want of that affec- 
tion, which lies at the root of all real, and of all 
acceptable godliness. 

It is mortifying to the man who possesses 
many accomplishments of character, to be told, 
that the greatest and most essential accom- 
plishment of a moral being, is that of which he 
has no share, — that the principle on which we 
expatiated in our last discourses, does not, in 
any of its varieties, belong to him, — that, want- 
ing it, he wants not merely obedience to the 
first and the greatest commandment, which is 
the love of God, but he wants what may be 
called the impregnating quality of all accepta- 
ble obedience whatever, — the spirit which ought 
to animate the performance of every other 
commandment, and without which, the most la- 
borious conformity to the law of Heaven, may 
do no more than impress upon his person the 
cold and lifeless image of loyalty, while in his 
mind there is not one of its essential attributes. 

We know not a more useful exercise than 
that of carrying round this conviction, amongst 
all the classes and conditions of humanity. In 
the days of our Saviour, the pride of the Pha- 
risees stood opposed to such a demonstration ; 

36 



2S2 



SERMON XII. 



and in our own days too, there are certain pre- 
tensions of worth, and of excellence, which 
must be disposted, ere we can hope to obtain 
admittance for the humiliating doctrine of the 
gospel. For this gospel, it must be observed, 
proceeds upon the basis, not of a partial, but 
of an entire and universal depravity, among 
the men of the world. It assimilates all the 
varieties of the human character into one com- 
mon condition of guilt, and need, and helpless- 
ness. It presumes the existence of such a 
moral disease in every son and daughter of 
Adam, as renders the application of the same 
moral remedy indispensable to them all. The 
formalists of Judea did not like to be thus 
grouped with publicans and harlots, under one 
description of sinfulness. Nor do men of taste, 
and feeling, and graceful morality, in our pre- 
sent day, readily understand how they should 
require the same kind of treatment, in the work 
of preparing them for immortality, with the 
most glaringly profligate and unrighteous of 
their neighbourhood. They look to the ostensi- 
ble marks of distinction between themselves and 
others ; — and what wider distinction, they think, 
can possibly be assigned, than that which ob- 
tains between the upright, or the kind-hearted, 
on the one hand, and the ungenerous, or dishon- 
est, on the other? Now, what we propose, in the 
following discourse, is to lead them to look a 
little farther,— and then they will see at least one 



SERMON XII. 283 



point of similarity between these two classes, the 
want of one common ingredient with both, and 
which attaches to each of them a great moral 
defect, that can only be repaired by one and the 
same application. 

It is well when we can find out an accordan- 
cy between the actual exhibition of human na- 
ture on the field of experience, and the repre- 
sentation that is given of this nature on the 
field of revelation. Now, the Bible every where 
groups the individuals of our species, into two 
general and distinct classes, and assigns to each 
of them its appropriate designation. It tells us 
of the vessels of wrath, and of the vessels of mer- 
cy-; of the travellers on a narrow path, and on a 
broad way; of the children of this world, and the 
children of light; and, lastly, of men who are car- 
nally minded, and men who are spiritually mind- 
ed. It employs these terms in a meaning so 
extensive, that by each couplet of them it em- 
braces all individuals. There is no separate 
number of persons, forming of themselves a neu- 
tral class, and standing without the limits of the 
two others. And were it possible to conceive, 
that human nature, as it exists at present in the 
world, were laid in a map before us, you would 
see no intermediate ground between the two 
classes which are thus contrasted in the Bible? 
— but these thrown into two distinct regions, 
with one clear and vigorous line of demarcation 
between them. 



284 



SERMON XII. 



We often read of this line, and we often read 
of the transition from the one to the other side 
of it. But there is no trace of any middle de- 
partment to be met with in the New Testament. 
The alternative has only two terms, and ours must 
be the one or the other of them. And as surely 
as a day is coming, when all the men of our as- 
sembled world shall be found on the right or 
on the left hand of the throne of judgment — so 
surely do the carnal and the spiritual regions of 
human nature, stand apart from each other; and 
all the men who are now living on the surface 
of the world, are to be found on the right, or on 
the wrong side, of the line of demarcation. 

We cannot conceive, then, a question of 
mightier interest, than the situation of this line, 
— a line which takes its own steady and un- 
faultering way through the thousand varieties 
of character that exist in the world ; and which 
reduces them all to two great, and awfully im- 
portant divisions. It marks off one part of the 
species from the other. We are quite aware 
that the terms which are employed to charac- 
terize the two sets are extremely unfashionable ; 
and, what is more, are painfully offensive to ma- 
ny a mind, whose taste, and whose habits, have 
not yet been brought under the overpowering 
controul of God's own message, expressed in 
God's own language. They are such terms as 
would be rejected with a positive sensation of 
disgust by many a moralist, and would be 



SERMON XII. 285 



thought by many more, to impart the blemish of 
a most hideous deformity, to his eloquent and 
philosophical pages. It is curious here to ob- 
serve how much the Maker of the human mind, 
and the mere observer of the human mind, 
differ in their views and representations of the 
same object. But when told, on the highest of 
all authority, that to be carnally minded is death, 
and to be spiritually minded is life and peace, 
we are compelled to acknowledge with a feeling 
of earnestness, greater than mere curiosity can 
inspire, that the application of these terms, is a 
question of all others the most deeply affecting 
to the fears, and the wishes of humanity. 

In the prosecution of this question, let me 
attempt to bring a succession of characters be- 
fore you, most of which must have met your 
own distinct and familiar observation ; and of 
w T hich, while exceedingly various in their com- 
plexion, we hope to succeed in convincing you, 
that the love of God, at least, is not in them. — 
If this can be made out against them, it may be 
considered as experimentally fixing to which of 
the two great divisions of humanity they be- 
long. All who love God, may have boldness, 
when they think of the day of judgment, be- 
cause, like unto God, who himself is love, they 
will be pronounced meet for the enjoyment, 
and the fellowship of him through eternity. — 
And they who want this affection when they 
die shall be turned into hell. They shall be 



286 



SERMON XII. 



found to possess that carnal mind which is 
enmity against God. So that upon the single 
point of whether they possess this love or not, 
hinges the question which I have just now 
started, — a question surely which it were better 
for every man to decide at the bar of conscience 
now, ere it comes under the review of that 
dread tribunal which is to award to him his 
everlasting habitation. 

I. Let us first offer to your notice, a man 
living in the grossness of animal indulgence, — a 
man, the field of whose enjoyments is altogether 
sensual, — and who, therefore, in addition to the 
charge he brings down upon himself, of direct- 
ly violating the law of God, is regarded by the 
admirers of what is tasteful and refined in the 
human character, as a loathsome object of con* 
templation. There is something more here 
than mere wickedness of character to excite 
the regret or detestation of the godly. There 
is sordidness of character to excite the dis- 
gust of the elegant. And let us just add one 
feature more to this portrait of deformity. Let 
us suppose the man in question to have so 
abandoned himself to the impulses of selfishness, 
that no feeling and no principle whatever, re- 
strains him from yielding to its temptations, — 
that to obtain the gratification he is in quest of, 
he can violate all the decencies, and bid away 
from him all the tendernesses of our common 
humanity, — that he has the hardihood to set the 



SERMON XII. 



287 



terrors of the civil law at defiance,— and that, 
for the money which ministers to every earthly 
appetite, he can even go so far, as to steel his 
heart against the atrocity of a murder. When 
we have thus set before you, the picture of one 
feasting on the prey of his inhuman robberies, 
we have surely brought our description as far 
down in the scale of character, as it can well be 
carried. And we have done so, on purpose 
that you may be at no loss to assign the place 
which belongs to him. It were a monstrous 
supposition altogether, that either the love of 
gratitude, or the love of moral esteem for the 
Deity, were to be found in the bosom of such a 
man. He then, of all others, is not spiritual but 
carnal; nor do we anticipate a single dissenting 
voice when we say, that whatever be the doubts 
and the delusions which may prevail about men 
of another aspect, the man whose habits and 
pursuits have now been sketched to you, stands 
on the wrong side of the line of demarcation. 

We are far from saying, that a man of such a 
character as this is of frequent occurrence in 
society. We merely set him up as a kind of 
starting-post, for the future train of our argu- 
ment. It is a mighty advantage, in every dis- 
cussion, to have a clear and undisputed outset, 
— and we trust, that, if thus far we have kept 
cordially by the side of each other, we shall not 
cast out by the way, in the progress of our re- 
maining observations. 



288 



SERMON XII. 



II. Let us now proceed, then, to detach one 
offensive feature from the character of him, 
whom we have thus set before you, as a com- 
pound of many abominations. Let us leave 
entire all his dishonesty, and all his devotedness 
to the pleasures of sense, but soften and trans- 
form his heart to such a degree, that he would 
recoil from the perpetration of a murder. This 
is a different portrait from the one which we 
formerly exhibited. There is in it an instinc- 
tive horror at an act of violence, which did not 
belong to the other ; — and the question we have 
now to put, is, Has the man who owns this im- 
proved representation, become, on this single 
difference, a spiritual man ? We answer this 
question by another, fs the difference that we 
have now assigned to him, due to the love of 
God, or to such a principle of loyal subjection 
to his authority, as this love is sure to engen- 
der? You will not call him spiritual from the 
mere existence of a feeling which would rise 
spontaneously in his heart, even though the 
Father of spirits were never thought of. We 
appeal to your own consciousness of what pass- 
es within you, if the heart do not experience 
the movement of many a constitutional feeling, 
altogether unaccompanied by any reference of 
the mind, to the love, or to the character, or 
even to, the existence of God. Are you not 
quite sensible, that though the idea of a God 
lay in a state of dormancy for hours, and for 



SERMON XII. 289 



days together, many of the relentings of na- 
ture would, in the mean while, remain with you ? 
For the preservation and the order of society, 
God has been kind enough to implant in the 
bosom of man, many a natural predilection, and 
many a natural horror, — of which he feels the 
operation, and the people of his neighbour- 
hood enjoy the advantage, at the very time that 
one and all of them, unmindful of God, are walk- 
ing in the counsel of their own hearts, and after 
the sight of their own eyes. He has done the 
same thing to the inferior animals. He has 
endowed them with a principle of attachment 
to their ofispring, in virtue of which, they, 
generally speaking, would recoil from the mur- 
der of their young with as determined an ab- 
horrence, as you would do from the murder of 
a fellow-creature. You would not surely say 
of the irrational instinct, that because amiable, 
or useful, or pleasing to contemplate, there is 
any thing spiritual in the impulse it communi- 
cates. Then do not offer a violence both to 
Scripture and philosophy, by confounding, in the 
mind of man, principles which are distinct from 
each other. Do not say, that he is spiritual, 
merely because he is moving in obedience to 
his constitutional tendencies. Do not say, that 
he is not carnal, while all that he has done, or 
abstained from doing, may be done or abstained 
from, though he lived without God in the w r orld. 
And go not to infer, while the pleasures of sense 

37 



29a 



SERMON X1L 



are the idols of his every affection — that because 
he would shudder to purchase them, at the ex- 
pense of another's blood, he, on that single ac- 
count, may be looked on as a spiritual man, and 
as standing on the right side of the line of de- 
marcation. 

III. All this may be looked upon, as too in- 
disputable for argument. And yet it is the 
very principle which, if carried to its fair ex- 
tent, and brought faithfully home to the con- 
science, would serve to convince of ungodliness, 
the vast majority of this world's generations. 
If a natural recoil from murder, may be expe- 
rienced by the bosom, in which there exists no 
love to God, — why may not this natural recoil 
be carried still farther, and yet the love of God 
be just as absent from the bosom as before ? 
There are other dishonesties, of a far less out- 
rageous character, than that by which you 
would commit an act of depredation ; and other 
cruelties far less enormous, than that by which 
you would embrue your hand in another's blood, 
— which still the generality of men would re- 
volt from constitutionally, and that too, without 
the movement of any affection for their God, or 
even so much as any thought of him. We have 
only to conceive the softening of a further 
transformation, to take place on the man, with 
whom we set out at the beginning of our argu- 
ment; and he may thus become, like the man 



SERMON XII. 291 



we read of in the parable, who took comfort to 
himself in the security, that he had goods laid 
up for many years, and at the same time is not 
charged, either with violence, or dishonesty in 
the acquirement of them. He is charged with 
nothing, but a devoted attachment to wealth ; 
and to the pleasures which that wealth can pur- 
chase. And yet, what an awful reckoning did 
he come under ! He seems to have just been 
such a man, as we can be at no loss to meet 
with every day in the range of our familiar ac- 
quaintances, — enjoying themselves in easy and 
comfortable abundance ; but at an obvious and 
unquestionable distance from any thing that 
can be called atrocity of character. There is 
not one of them, perhaps, who would not recoil 
from an act of barbarity ; and who would not 
be moved with honest indignation, at the tale of 
perfidy or of violence. They live in a placid 
course of luxury, and good humour ; and we are 
far from charging them with any thing which 
the world calls monstrous, — when we say, that 
the Father of spirits is unminded, and unre- 
garded by them, and that the good things of the 
world are their gods. If it be a vain super- 
fluity of argument to prove, that a man may 
not be spiritual, and yet be endowed with such 
a degree of natural tenderness, as to recoil from 
the perpetration of a murder,^— then it is equally 
indisputable, that a man may not be spiritual, 
though endowed with such a degree of natural 



292 SERMON XII. 

- 

tenderness, as to recoil from many lesser acts of 
cruelty, or injustice. In other words, he may 
be a very fair every day character ; and if it be 
so sure a principle, that a man may not be a 
murderer, and yet be carnal, then let one and 
all of you look well to your own security; for it 
is the very principle which might be employed, 
to shake the thousands, and tens of thousands of 
ordinary men, out of the security in which they 
have entrenched themselves. 

IV. But to proceed in this work of transfor- 
mation. Let us now conceive a still more ex- 
quisite softening of affection and tenderness, to 
be thrown over the whole of our imaginary 
character. We thus make another step, and 
another departure, from the original specimen. 
By the first step, the mind is made to feel a 
kind of revolting, at the atrocity of a murder ; 
and the character ceases to be monstrous. By 
the second, the mind is made to share in all 
the common antipathies of our nature, to 
what is cruel and unfeeling; and it is thus 
wrought up to the average of character which 
obtains in society. By the third step, the mind 
is endowed with the warmer and more delicate 
sympathies of our nature, and thus rises to a 
more exalted place in the scale of character. 
It becomes positively amiable. You look to 
him, who owns all these graceful sensibilities, 
even as the Saviour looked unto the young 
man of the gospels, and, like the Saviour, you 



SERMON XII. 29$ 

love him. Who can, in fact, refrain from doing 
homage to such a lovely exhibition of all that is 
soothing in humanity ? and whether he be em- 
ployed in mingling his tears, and his charities, 
with the unfortunate, or in shedding a gentle 
lustre over the retirement of his own family, 
even orthodoxy herself, stern and unrelenting 
as she is conceived to be, cannot find it in her 
heart to frown upon him. But, feeling is one 
thing, and truth is another; and when the 
question is put, Do all these sensibilities, heigh- 
tened and adorned as they are, on the upper 
walks of society, constitute a spiritual man ? — 
it is not by a sigh, or an aspiration of tender- 
ness, that we are to answer it. We are put on 
a cool exercise of the understanding; and we 
cannot close it against the fact, that all these 
feelings may exist apart from the love of God, 
and apart from the religious principle, — that the 
idea of a God may be expunged from the heart 
of man, and yet that heart be still the seat of the 
same constitutional impulses as ever, — that, in re- 
ference to the realities of the unseen and spiritual 
world, the mind may be an entire blank, and 
there, at the same time, be room in it, for the 
play of kindly and benevolent emotions. We 
commit these truths to your own experience, and 
if carried faithfully to the conscience, they may 
chase away another of the delusions which en- 
compass it. There is no fear of me, for I have 
a feeling heart, is a plea which they put a de- 

■ 



i 



294 



SERMON XII. 



eisive end to. This feeling heart, if unaccom- 
panied by any sense of God, is no better evi- 
dence of a spiritual man, than is the circulation 
of the blood. We are far from refusing it the 
homage of our tenderness. We feel a love to 
it, but we will not make a lie about it. We 
can make no more of it, than Scripture and ex- 
perience enable us to do. And, if it be true, 
that a man's heart may be the habitual seat of 
kind affections, while an affection for God is 
habitually away from it, — if it be true, that no 
man can be destitute of this affection, and at 
the same time be a spiritual man, — if it be true, 
that he who is not spiritual, is carnal, and that 
the carnally-minded cannot inherit the king- 
dom of God ; — then the necessity lies upon us : 
he is still in the region and shadow of death : 
and if he refuse the arguments and invitations 
of the gospel, calling him over to another region 
than that which he now occupies, he must just 
be numbered among those more beauteous 
wrecks of our fallen nature, which are destined 
to perish and be forgotten. 

V. But let us go still farther. Let us sup- 
pose the heart to be furnished, not merely with 
the finest sensibilities of our nature, but with its 
most upright and honourable principles. Let 
us conceive a man whose pulse beats high with 
the pride of integrity ; whose every word carries 
security along with it ; whose faithfulness in the 
walks of business has stood the test of many 



SERMON X1L 



295 



fluctuations ; who, amid all the varieties of hm 
fortune, has nobly sustained the glories of an 
untainted character ; and whom we see by the 
salutations of the market-place, to be acknow- 
ledged and revered by all, as the most respect- 
able of the citizens. Now, which of the two 
great regions of human character shall we make 
him to occupy ? This question depends upon 
another. May all this manly elevation of soul, 
and of sentiment, stand disunited in the same 
heart, with the influence of the authority of 
God, or with that love of God which is the 
keeping of his commandments? The discerning 
eye of Hume saw that it could ; and he tells us 
that natural honesty of temper is a better se- 
curity for the faithfulness of a man's doings, 
than all the authority of religious principle 
over him. We deny the assertion ; but the dis- 
tinction between the two principles on which it 
proceeds, is indisputable. There is a principle 
of honour, apart in the human mind altogether, 
from any reference to the realities of a spiritual 
world. It varies in the intensity of its opera- 
tion, with different individuals. It has the 
chance of being more entire, when kept aloof 
from the temptations of poverty ; and therefore 
it is, that we more frequently meet with it in the 
upper and middling classes of life. And we 
can conceive it so strong in its original influ- 
ence, or so grateful to the possessor from the 
elevating consciousness which goes along with 



296 SERMON XII. 



it, or so nourished by the voice of an applauding 
world, as to throw all the glories of a romantic 
chivalry over the character of him, with whom 
God is as much unthought of, as he is unseeen. 
We are far from refusing our admiration. But 
we are saying, that the Being who brought this 
noble specimen of our nature into existence ; 
who fitted his heart for all its high and generous 
emotions ; who threw a theatre around him, for 
the display and exercise of his fine moral ac- 
complishments ; who furnished each of his ad- 
mirers with a heart to appreciate his worth, and 
a voice to pour into his ear the flattering ex- 
pression of it; — the Being whose hand upholds 
and perpetuates the whole of this illustrious ex- 
hibition, may all the while be forgotten, and un- 
noticed as a thing of no consequence. We are 
merely saying, that the man whose heart is oc- 
cupied with a sentiment of honour, and is at 
the same time unoccupied with a sense of Him, 
who is the first and greatest of spiritual beings, 
is not a spiritual man. But, if not spiritual, we 
are told in the Bible, that there are only two 
terms in the alternative, and he must be carnal. 
— And the God whom he has disregarded in 
time, will find, that in the praises and enjoy- 
ments of time, he has gotten all his reward, and 
that he owes him no recompense in eternity. 

We appeal to the state of the public mind * 
some years ago, on the subject of Africa, as a 
living exemplification of the whole argument. 



SERMON XII. S9? 



" Love thy neighbour as thyself," says the 
Bible; and this precept, coming with all the 
force of its religious influence upon the hearts of 
men, who carry their respects to the will of a spi- 
ritual and unseen God, have urged them on, and 
with noble effect, to the abolition of the dead- 
liest mischief that was ever let loose upon the 
species. And whether we look to the Quakers, 
who originated the cause, or to him who pio- 
neered the cause, or to him who plead the cause, 
or to him who has impregnated with such a 
moral charm, the atmosphere of his country, 
that not a human creature can breathe of its air 
without taking in the generous inspiration of 
liberty along with it, — we cannot fail to observe, 
that one and all of them speak the language, and 
evince the tastes, and are not ashamed to own 
their most entire and decided preference for the 
objects of spiritual men. There is an evident 
sense of religious duty, which gives the tone of 
Christianity, and throws the aspect of sacredness 
over the whole of their doings ; and the un- 
bailed perseverance of the many years they had 
to struggle with difficulties, and to spend in the 
weariness of ever recurring disappointments, 
bears striking proof to the unquenchable energy 
of the Christian principle within them. But 
who can deny the large and important contri- 
butions which came in upon the cause from 
other quarters ? We hold it quite consistent with 
the truth of human nature, to aver, that in 

38 



298 



SERMON XII. 



this enlightened "country, other principles may 
have lent their aid to the cause, and, apart from 
Christianity altogether, may have sent a com- 
manding influence into the hearts of some of its 
ablest and most efficient supporters. There is 
nothing in the presence of Christian principle 
to quell the impassioned fervour of our desires 
after right objects ; but the absence of Christian 
principle does not necessarily extinguish this 
fervour. When we look back to the animating 
ferment of the British public, on the subject of 
Africa, we will ever contend, that a feeling of 
obligation to a spiritual being, was the ingredi- 
ent which set it agoing, and which kept it a- 
going. But who can deny the existence and 
the powerful operation of other ingredients? 
An instinctive horror at cruelty, is a separate 
and independent attribute of the heart, and suf- 
ficient of itself to inspire the deepest tones of 
that eloquence which sounded in Parliament, 
and issued from the press, and spread an infec- 
tion over all the provinces of the empire, and 
mustered around the cause, thousands and tens 
of thousands of our rallying population, and 
gave such an energy to the public voice, that 
all the resisting jealousies, and interests of the 
country were completely overborne ; — and hence 
the interesting spectacle, of carnal and spiritual 
men lending their respective energies to the ac- 
complishment of one object, and securing, by 
their success, a higher name for Britain in the 



SERMON XIL . 299 



world, than all the wisdom of her counsels, and 
all the pride of her victories, can ever achieve 
for her. 

Were it our only aim to carry the acquies- 
cence of the understanding, there might be a 
danger in affirming, and urging, and illustrating 
to excess, the position, that we want to estab- 
lish among you ; — and it were perhaps better, 
to limit ourselves to one simple delivery of 
the argument. But our aim is, if possible, to af- 
fect the conscience, and to accomplish this ob- 
ject, not with one, but with many individuals. 
And when it is reflected, that one development 
of the principle may come home more forcibly 
to some man's experience than another, we must 
beg to be excused for one recurrence more 
to a topic, so pregnant of consequence to your 
everlasting interests. There is a sadly meagre 
and frivolous conception of human sinfulness, 
that is prevalent amongst you, — and it goes to 
foster this delusion, that when we look abroad 
on the face of society, we must be struck with the 
diversity of character, which obtains among the 
individuals who compose it. Some there are 
who, in the estimation of the world, are exe- 
crable for their crimes, but others who, in the 
same estimation, are illustrious for their virtues. 
In that general mass of corruption, to which we 
would reduce our unfortunate species, is there, 
it may be asked, no solitary example of what is 
pure, and honourable, and lovely ? Do wene- 



30Q 



SERMON XII. 



ver meet with the charity which melts at suf- 
fering ; with the honesty which disdains, and is 
proudly superior to falsehood ; with the active 
beneficence which gives to others its time and 
its labour ; with the modesty which shrinks from 
notice, and gives all its sweetness to retire- 
ment ; with the gentleness which breathes peace 
to all, and throws a beautiful lustre over the 
walks of domestic society ? If we find these 
virtues to be sometimes exhibited, is not this 
an argument against the doctrine of such an 
entire, and unmitigated depravity, as we have 
been contending for ? Will it not serve to re- 
deem humanity from that sweeping indiscrimi- 
nate charge of corruption, which is so often ad- 
vanced against it, in all the pride and intoler- 
ance of orthodoxy ? What better evidence can 
be given of our love to God, than our adherence 
to his law ? And are not the virtues which we 
have just now specified part of that law? Are 
not they the very virtues which his authority re- 
quires of us, and which imparts such a charm to 
the morality of the New Testament ? 

Now, it carries us at once to the bottom of 
this delusion, to observe, that though the reli- 
gious principle can never exist, without the 
amiable and virtuous conduct of the New Tes- 
tament ; yet, that conduct may, in some mea- 
sure, be maintained, without the religious prin- 
ciple. A man may be led to precisely the same 
conduct, on the impulse of many different prin- 



SERMON XIL 



301 



ciples. He may be gentle, because it is a pre- 
scription of the divine law ; — or, he may be 
gentle, because he is naturally of a peaceful, or 
indolent constitution ; — or, he may be gentle, 
because he sees it to be an amiable graceful- 
ness, with which he wishes to adorn his own 
character ; — or, he may be gentle, because it is 
the ready way of perpetuating the friendship of 
those around him ; — or, he may be gentle, be- 
cause taught to observe it, as a part of courtly 
and fashionable deportment, — and what was im- 
planted by education, may come in time to be 
confirmed, by habit and experience. Now, it 
is only under the first of these principles, that 
there is any religion in gentleness. The other 
principles may produce all the outward appear- 
ance of this virtue, and much even of its inward 
complacency, and yet be as distinct from the 
religious principle, as they are distinct from one 
another. To infer the strength of the religious 
principle, from the taste of the human mind, , for 
what is graceful and lovely in character, would 
just be as preposterous, as to infer it from the 
admiration of a fine picture, or a cultivated 
landscape. They are not to be confounded. 
They occupy a different place, even in the clas- 
sifications of philosophy. We do not deny, that 
the admiration of what is fine in character, is a 
principle of a higher order, than the admiration 
of what is fine in external scenery. So is a taste 
for what is beautiful in the prospect before us, 



302 



SERMON XII. 



a principle of a higher order, than a taste for 
the sensualities of the epicure. But they, one 
and all of them, stand at a wide distance from 
the religious principle : and whether it be taste, 
or temper, or the love of popularity, or the high 
impulse of honourable feeling, or even the love 
of truth, and a natural principle of integrity, — 
the virtues in question may be so unconnected 
with religion, as to flourish in the world, and be 
rewarded by its admiration, even though God 
were expunged from the belief, and immortality 
from the prospects, of the species. 

The virtues, then, to which the enemies of 
our doctrine make such a confident appeal, may 
have no force whatever in the argument, — be- 
cause, properly speaking, they may not be ex- 
emplifications of the religious principle. If you 
do what is virtuous, because God tells you so, 
then, and then only, do you give us a fair ex- 
ample of the authority of religion over your 
practice. But, if you do it merely because it is 
lovely, because it is honourable, or because it 
is a fine moral accomplishment, — we will not 
refuse the testimony of our admiration, but we 
cannot submit to such an error, either of con- 
ception, or of language, as to allow that there is 
any religion in all this. These qualities have 
our utmost friendship; and we give the most 
substantial evidence of this, when, instead of 
leaving them to their own solitary claims upon 
t he human heart, we call in the aid of religion, 



SERMON XII. 



SOS 



and support them by its authority : H Whatso- 
ever things are pure, or lovely, or honest, or 
of good report ; if there be any virtue, if there 
be any praise, think of these things." But we 
will not admit, that the mere circumstance of 
their being lovely, supercedes the authority of 
religion ; nor can we endure such an injustice 
to the Author of all that is graceful, both in 
nature and morality, as that the native charms 
of virtue should usurp, in our admiration, the 
place of God — of him who gave to virtue all its 
charms, and formed the heart of man to love 
and to admire them. 

Be not deceived, then, into a rejection of that 
doctrine which forms the great basis of a sin- 
ner's religion, by the specimens of moral ex- 
cellence which are to be met with in society \ 
or by the praise which your own virtues extort 
from an applauding neighbourhood. Virtue 
may exist, and in such a degree too, as to con- 
stitute it a lovely object in the eyes of the 
world, but if there be in it no reference of 
the mind to the will of God, there is no reli- 
gion in it. Such virtue as this has its reward 
in its natural consequences, in the admiration of 
others, or in the delights of conscious satisfac- 
tion. But we cannot see why God will reward 
it in the capacity of your master, when his ser- 
vice was not the principle of it, and you were 
therefore not acting at all the part of a servant to 
him, — nor do we see how he can reward it in the 



304 SERMON XII. 



capacity of your judge, when, in the whole pro- 
cess of virtuous feeling, and virtuous sentiment, 
and virtuous conduct, you carried in your heart 
no reference whatever, for a single moment, to 
him as to your lawgiver. We do not deny that 
there are many such examples of virtue in the 
world ; but then we insist upon it, that they 
cannot be put down to the account of religion. 
They often may, and actually do, exist in a state 
of entire separation from the religious prnciple ; 
and in that case, they go no farther than to 
prove that your taste is unvitiated, that your 
temper is amiable, that your social dispositions 
promote the peace and welfare of society ; and 
they will be rewarded with its approbation. 
Now, it is well that you act your part as a mem- 
ber of society; and religion, by making this, 
one of its injunctions, gives us the very best se- 
curity, that wherever its influence prevails, it 
will be done in the most perfect manner. But 
the point we labour to impress is, that a man 
may be what we all understand by a good 
member of society, without the authority of God 
as his legislator, being either recognised or 
acted upon. We do not say that his error 
lies in being a good member of society. This, 
though only a circumstance at present, is a 
very fortunate one. The error lies in his hav- 
ing discarded the authority of God, or ra- 
ther, in his never having admitted the influ- 
ence of that authority over his heart, or his 



SERMON XII. 30a 



practice. We want to guard him against the 
delusion, that the principle which he has, can 
ever be accepted as a substitute for the prin- 
ciple he has not, — or, that the very highest 
sense of duty, which his situation as a member 
of society, impresses upon his feelings, will ever 
be received as an atonement for wanting that 
sense of duty to God, which he ought to feel 
in the far more exalted capacity of his servant, 
and candidate for his approbation. We stand 
on the high ground, that he is the subject of 
the Almighty, — nor shall we shrink from declar- 
ing the whole extent of the principle. Let his 
path in society be ever so illustrious, by the 
virtues which adorn it ; let every word, and 
every performance, be as honourable as a proud 
sense of integrity can make it ; let the saluta- 
tions of the market-place mark him out as the 
most respectable of the citizens ; and the grati- 
tude of a thousand families ring the praises of 
his beneficence to the world : — If the actor in 
this splendid exhibition, carry in his mind no re- 
ference to the authority of God, we do not 
hesitate to pronounce him unworthy, — nor shall 
all the execrations of generous, but mistaken 
principle, deter us from putting forth our hand 
to strip him of his honours. What ! is the 
world to gaze in admiration on this fine specta- 
cle of virtue ; and are we to be told that the 
Being, who gave such falculties to one of his 
children, and provides the threatre for their ex~ 

39 



306 



SERMON XIL 



ercise, — that the Being, who called this moral 
scene into existence, and gave it all its beauties, 
— that he is to be forgotten, and neglected as 
of no consequence ? Shall we give a deceitful 
lustre to the virtues of him who is unmindful of 
his God, — and with all the grandeur of eternity 
before us, can we turn to admire those short- 
lived exertions, which only shed a fleeting bril- 
liancy over a paltry and perishable scene ? It 
is true that he who is counted faithful in little 
will also be counted faithful in much ; and 
when God is the principle of this fidelity, the 
very humblest wishes of benevolence will be re- 
warded. But its most splendid exertions with- 
out this principle, have no inheritance in hea- 
ven. Human praise, and human eloquence, may 
acknowledge it ; but the Discerner of the heart 
never will. The heart may be the seat of 
every amiable feeling, and every claim which 
comes to it in the shape of human misery may 
find a welcome ; but if the love of God be not 
there, it is not right with God, — and he who 
owns it, will die in his sins : he is in a state of 
impenitency. 

Having thus disposed of those virtues which 
exist in a state of independence on the religious 
principle, — we must be forced to recur to the 
doctrine of human depravity, in all its original 
aggravation. Man is corrupt, and the estrange- 
ment of his heart from God, is the decisive evi- 
dence of it. Every day of his life the first com- 



SERMON XII. 



307 



mandment of the law is trampled on, — and it is 
that commandment on which the authority of 
the whole is suspended. His best exertions are 
unsound in their very principle; and as the love 
of God reigns not within him, all that has usurp- 
ed the name of virtue, and deceived us by its 
semblance, must be a mockery and a delusion. 

We shall conclude with three observations, 
First, there is nothing more justly fitted to revolt 
the best feelings of the human heart against or- 
thodoxy, than when any thing is said in its de- 
fence, which tends to mar ihe credit or the 
lustre of a moral accomplishment, so lovely as 
benevolence. Let it be observed, then, that sub- 
stantial benevolence is rarely, if ever, to be found 
apart from piety,— and that piety is but the hy- 
pocrisy of a name, when benevolence, in all the 
unweariedness of its well doing, does not go 
along with it. Benevolence may make some 
brilliant exhibitions of herself, without the insti- 
gation of the religious principle. But in these 
cases you seldom have the touchstone of a pain- 
ful sacrifice, — and you never have a spiritual 
aim, after the good of our imperishable nature. 
It is easy to indulge a constitutional feeling. It 
is easy to make a pecuniary surrender. It is 
easy to move gently along, amid the visits and 
the attentions of kindness, when every eye smiles 
welcome, and the soft whispers of gratitude mi- 
nister their pleasing reward, and flatter you into 
the delusion that you are an angel of mercy, 



308 SERMON XII. 



But give us the benevolence of him, who can 
ply his faithful task in the face of every discour- 
agement, — who can labour in scenes where there 
is no brilliancy whatever to reward him, — whose 
kindness is that sturdy and abiding principle 
which can weather all the murmurs of ingrati- 
tude, and all the provocations of dishonesty, — 
who can find his way through poverty's putrid 
lanes, and depravity's most nauseous and disgust- 
ing receptacles, — who can maintain the uniform 
and placid temper, within the secrecy of his own 
home, and amid the irksome annoyances of his 
own family, — who can endure hardships, as a 
good soldier of Christ Jesus, — whose humanity 
acts with as much vigour amid the reproach, and 
the calumny, and the contradiction of sinners-, 
as when soothed and softened by the poetic 
accompaniment of weeping orphans, and in- 
teresting cottages, — and, above all, who la- 
bours to convert sinners, to subdue their resis- 
tance of the gospel, and to spiritualize them 
into a meetness for the inheritance of the 
saints. We maintain, that no such benevo- 
lence, realizing all these features, exists, with- 
out a deeply seated principle of piety lying at the 
bottom of it. Walk from Dan to Beersheba, 
and, away from Christianity, and beyond the 
circle of its influences, there is positively no such 
benevolence to be found. The patience, the 
meekness, the difficulties of such a benevolence, 
cannot be sustained without the influence of a 



SERMON XII. 



309 



heavenly principle, — and when all that decks the 
theatre of this world is withdrawn, what else is 
there but the magnificence of eternity, to pour a 
glory over its path, and to minister encourage- 
ment in the midst of labours unnoticed by hu- 
man eye, and unrewarded by human testimony ? 
Even the most splendid enterprises of benevo- 
lence, which the world ever witnessed, can 
be traced to the operation of what the world 
laughs at, as a quakerish andmethodistical piety. 
And we appeal to the abolition of the slave 
trade, and the still nobler abolition of vice and 
ignorance, which is now accomplishing amongst 
the uncivilized countries of the earth, for the 
proof, that in good will to men, as well as glory 
to God, they are the men of piety who bear 
away the palm of superiority and of triumph. 

But, Secondly, If all Scripture and all obser- 
vation, are on the side of our text, should not 
this be turned by each of us into a personal con- 
cern ? Should it not be taken up, and pursued, 
as a topic in which we all have a deep indivi- 
dual interest ? Should it not have a more per- 
manent hold of us, than a mere amusing gene- 
ral speculation? Are not prudence, and anti- 
cipation, and a sense of danger, all linked with 
the conclusion we have attempted to press upon 
you ? In one word, if there be such a thing as a 
moral government on the part of God, — if there 
be such a thing as the authority of a high and 
divine legislature, — if there be such a thing as a 



310 



SERMON XII. 



throne in heaven, and a judge sitting on that 
throne, — should not the question, What shall I 
do to be saved ? come with all its big and deeply 
felt significancy into the heart and conscience 
of every one of us ? We know that there is a 
very loose and general security upon this subject, 
— that the question, if it ever be suggested at all, 
is disposed of in an easy, indolent, and superficial 
way, by some such presumption, as that God is 
merciful, and that should be enough to pacify us. 
But why recur to any presumption, for the pur- 
pose of bringing the question to a settlement, 
when, upon this very topic, we are favoured with 
an authoritative message from God ? — when an 
actual embassy has come from him, and that on 
the express errand of reconciliation ? — when the 
records of this embassy have been collected in- 
to a volume, within the reach of all who will 
stretch forth their hand to it ?— when the obvi- 
ous expedient of consulting this record is before 
us ? And surely, if what God says of himself, is 
of higher signification than what we think him to 
be, and if he tell us not merely that he is merci- 
ful, but that there is a particular way in which he 
chooses to be so; — nothing remains for us but 
submissively to learn that way, and obediently 
to go along with it. But he actually tells us, 
that there is no other name given under heaven, 
whereby man can be saved, but the name of Je- 
sus. He tells us, that it is only in Christ, that he 
has reconciled the world unto himself. He 



SERMON XII. 



an 



tells us, that our alone redemption is in him 
whom God has set forth to be a propitiation 
through faith in his blood, — that he might be 
just, while the justifier of him who believeth in 
Jesus and surely, we must either give up the 
certainty of the record, or count these to be 
faithful sayings, and worthy of all accepta- 
tion. 

Lastly, The question may occur, after having 
established the fact of human corruption, and 
recommended a simple acquiescence in the Sa- 
viour for forgiveness, What becomes of the cor~ 
ruption after this ? Must we just be doing with 
it as an obstinate peculiarity of our nature, bear- 
ing down all our powers of resistance, and mak- 
ing every struggle with it hopeless and un- 
availing? For the answer to this question, we 
commit you, as before, to the record. He who 
is in Christ Jesus is a new creature. Sin has no 
longer dominion over him. That very want 
which constituted the main violence of the dis- 
ease, is made up to him. He wanted the love 
of God ; and this love is shed abroad in his heart 
by the Holy Ghost. He wanted the love of 
his neighbour; but God enters into a covenant 
with him, by which he puts this law in his heart, 
and writes it in his mind. The spirit is given 
to them who ask it in faith, and the habitual 
prayer, of, Support me in the performance of 
this duty, — or, Carry me in safety through this 
trial of my heart and of my principles, — is heard 



312 



SERMON XII. 



with acceptance, and answered with power. The 
power of Christ is made to rest on those who 
look to him ; and they will find to be their expe- 
rience what Paul found to be his, — they will be 
able to do all things through Christ strengthen- 
ing them. Now, the question we have to put 
is, — Tell us, if all this sound strange, and mys- 
terious, and foreign, to the general style of your 
conceptions ? Then be alarmed for your safe- 
ty. The things you thus profess to be strange 
to you, are not the peculiar notions of one man, 
or the still more peculiar phraseology of another. 
They are the very notions and the very phraseo- 
logy, of the Bible, — and you, by your antipathy 
or disregard to them, bring yourselves under 
precisely the same reckoning with God, that 
you do with a distant acquaintance, whom you 
insult by returning his letter unopened, or des- 
pise, by suffering it to lie beside you unread and 
unattended to. In this indelible word of God, 
you will meet with the free offer of forgiveness 
for the past, and a provision laid before you, 
by which all who make use of it, are carried 
forward to amendment, and progressive virtue, 
for the future. They are open to all, and at 
the taking of all; but in proportion to the frank- 
ness, and freeness, and universality, of the offer, 
will be the severity of that awful threatening to 
them who despise it. How shall they escape, if 
^hev neglect so great a salvation ? 



SERMON XIII. 



THE NATURAL ENMITY OF THE MIND AGAINST GOD* 



Romans viii. 7- 
61 The carnal mind is enmity against God." 

W E should be blinding ourselves against the 
light of experience, did we deny of many 
of our acquaintances, that they have either 
brought into the world, or have acquired, by 
a natural process of education, such a gentle- 
ness of temper, such a docility, such a taste 
for the amiable, and the kind, such an ho- 
nourable sense of integrity, such a feeling 
sympathy for the wants and misfortunes of 
others, that it would not be easy, and what is 
more, we may venture to say, from the example 
of our Saviour, who, when he looked to the 
young man, loved him, that it would positively 
not be right, to withhold from them our admi- 
ration and our tenderness. Still it were a vio- 
lation of all scriptural propriety in language, to 
say of them that they were not carnal, or not 

40 



314 SERMON XIII. 



carnally minded. All, by the very signification 
of the term, are carnal, whose minds either re- 
tain their original constitution, or have under- 
gone no other transforming process than a mere 
process of natural education. Some minds are, 
in these circumstances, more agreeable to look 
upon than others, just as some faces are more 
agreeable than others, to the eye. Each mind 
has its own peculiar character, just as each face 
has its own set of features, and its own com- 
plexion. But, as all the varieties in the latter, 
from exquisite beauty to most revolting defor- 
mity, do not exclude /rom any, the one and uni- 
versal attribute of decay, — so neither may all the 
constitutional varieties in the former, from the 
most sordid to the most naturally upright and 
amiable, exclude the possession of some one and 
universal attribute ; and it may be the very at- 
tribute assigned to nature in the text — even 
hostility against God. 

Let us first offer some remarks on the affir- 
mation of the text, that the carnal mind is en- 
mity against God, — and then shortly consider, 
how it is that the gospel of Jesus Christ suits its 
applications to this great moral disease. 

I. It appears a very presumptuous attempt, 
on the part of a human interpreter, when the 
object which he proposes, and which he erects 
into a separate head of discussion, is to prove 
the assertion of the text. Should not the very 
circumstance of its being the assertion of the 



SERMON XIII. 315 



text, be proof enough for you ? On what better 
foundation can your belief be laid than on the 
testimony of God ? and when we come to under- 
stand the meaning of the thing testified, is not 
the bare fact of God being the witness of it, 
sufficient ground for its credibility to rest upon ? 
Shall man's reasoning carry a greater authority 
along with it, than God's declaration ? Is your 
faith to depend on the success or the failure of 
his argument ? Whether he succeed in establish- 
ing the truth of the assertion or not, upon in- 
dependent reasonings of his own, — remember 
that by reading it out in his text, he has already 
come forward with an argument more conclu- 
sive than any which his ingenuity can devise. 
And yet, how often do your convictions lie sus- 
pended on the ability of the preacher, and on the 
soundness of his demonstrations ? You refuse to 
believe truth, plainly set before you in the Bible, 
because the minister has failed in making out 
his point. Now, the truth of the point in ques- 
tion may have already received its decisive set- 
tlement, from the text delivered in your hear- 
ing. We may try, and take our own way of 
bringing the truth of your enmity against God, 
close and home upon your consciences. But, 
if there be truth in all the sayings of the Bible, 
enough has been already said, to undermine the 
security of your fancied attainments. It is said, 
that in our nature there is a rooted and an em- 
bodied character of hostility to our Maker. This 



SIS SERMON XIII. 



should make the wisest and most sufficient 
among you feel that you are poor indeed, — and 
let other expedients, to press home the melan- 
choly truth fail, or be effectual as they may, this 
is surely enough to convince and to alarm you. 

But, though we cannot add to the truth ol 
God, there is such a thing as what the Apostle 
calls making that truth manifest to your con- 
sciences. Your own observation may attest the 
very same truth, which God announces to you 
in his word. And if it be a truth, respecting the 
state of your own heart, this agreement be- 
tween what God says you are, and what you 
find yourselves to be, is often most powerfully 
instrumental, in reclaiming men to the acknow- 
ledgment of the truth, and bringing their heart 
under its influence. This is the very argument 
which compelled the faith of the woman of Sa- 
maria. " Come and see the man which told me 
all the things that ever I did; is not this the 
Christ?" It is the very argument, by which 
many an unbeliever was convinced in the Apos- 
tle's days. The secrets of his heart were made 
manifest, and so falling down on his face, he 
worshipped God, and reported that God was in 
them, of a truth. We cannot make the assertion 
in the text stronger than God has made it alrea- 
dy, — but we may be able to guide your obser- 
vations to that which is the subject of it — even 
to your own mind. We may lead you to attend 
more closely, and to view more distinctly, the 



SERMON XIII. 317 



state of your minds, than you have ever yet done. 
If your finding of the matter shall agree with 
God's saying about it, it may make the truth of 
the text tell with energy upon your consciences ; 
— and it were well for one and all of us, that we 
obtained a more overwhelming sense of our = ne- 
cessities than we have ever yet gotten ; that we 
saw ourselves in those true colours of deformity 
which really belong to us ; that the inveteracy 
of our disease as sinners, were more known and 
more felt by us ; that we could lift up the mantle 
of delusion, which the accomplishments of na- 
ture throw over the carnal mind, and by which 
they spread a most bewildering gloss over all the 
rebelliousness and ingratitude of the inner man. 
Could we but make you feel your need and your 
helplessness as sinners, — could we chase away 
from you the pride and the security of your 
fancied attainments, — could we lead you to 
mourn and be in heaviness, under a sense of 
your alienations and idolatries, and risings of 
hatred against the God, who created, and who 
sustains you ; — then might we look for the over- 
tures of the gospel being more thankfully list- 
ened to, more cordially embraced, more re- 
joiced in as the alone suitable remedy to the 
wants and the sorenesses of your fallen nature, 
— then might we look for the attitude of self- 
dependence being broken down, and for all 
trust, and all glorying, being transferred from 



313 SERMON XIII. 



ourselves, and laid upon Jesus Christ, and him 
crucified. 

It is no proof of love to God that we do 
many things, and that too with the willing con- 
sent of the mind, the performance of which is 
agreeable to his law. If the same thing might 
be done upon either of two principles, then the 
doing of it may only prove the existence of one 
of these principles, while the other has no pre- 
sence or operation in the mind whatever. I do 
not steal, and the reason of it may be either that 
I love God, and so keep his commandments, 
or it may be that I have honourable feelings, 
and would spurn at the disgracefulness of such 
an action. This is only one example, but the 
bare statement of it serves for a thousand more. 
It lets us in at once to the decisive fact, that 
there are many principles of action applauded, 
and held in reverence, and most useful to so- 
ciety, and withal urging us to the performance 
of what, in the matter of it, is agreeable to the 
law of God, which may have a practical as- 
cendancy over a man whose heart is alienated 
from the love of God. Propose the question 
to yourself, Would not I do this good thing, or 
abstain from this evil thing, though God had 
no will in the matter ? If you would, then put 
not down what is altogether due to other prin- 
ciples to the principle of love to God, or a de- 
sire of pleasing him. The principle upon which 

i ■ \ 

i 



SERMON XIIL 



319 



you have acted may be respectable, and ho- 
nourable, and amiable. We are not disputing 
all this. We are only saying, that it is not the 
love of God ; and should we hear any one of 
you assert, that I have nothing to reproach 
myself with, and that I give every body their 
own, and that I possess a fair character in so- 
ciety, and have done nothing to forfeit it, and 
that I have my share of generosity, and honour, 
and tenderness, and civility, our only reply is, 
that this may be very true. You may have a 
very large share of these, and of other estimable 
principles, but along with the possession of these 
many things, you may lack one thing, and that 
one thing may be the love of God. An enlight- 
ened discerner of the heart may look into you, 
and say, with pur Saviour in the text, " I know 
you that you have not the love of God in you." 

It is no test whatever of your love to God, 
that you tolerate him, when he calls upon you, 
to do the things which your natural principles 
incline you to do, and which you would have 
done at any rate. But when he claims that 
place in your affections which you give to many 
of the objects of the world,— when he puts in 
for that share of your heart which you give to 
wealth, or pleasure, or reputation among men, 
— then is not God a weariness ? and does not 
the inner man feel impatience and dislike at 
these grievous exactions? and when the will of 
God thwarts the natural current of your tastes 



320 



SERMON XIII. 



and enjoyments, is not God, at the moment of 
urging that will, with all the natural authority 
which belongs to him, a positive offence to 
you ? 

How would you like the visit of a man whose 
presence broke up some arrangement that you 
had set your heart upon ; or marred the enjoy- 
ment of some favourite scheme that you were 
going to put into execution ? Would not you 
hate the visit ? and if it were often repeated, — 
if the disappointments you received from this 
cause were frequent and perpetual, — if you saw 
a systematic design of thwarting you by these 
galling and numerous interruptions, would not 
you also cordially hate the visitor, and give the 
most substantial evidence of your hatred, too, 
by shunning him, or shutting him out? Now, 
is not God just such a visitor ? O how many 
favourite schemes of enjoyment would the 
thought of him, and of his -will, if faithfully ad- 
mitted to the inner chambers of the mind, put to 
flight! How many fond calculations be given 
up about the world, the love of which is oppo- 
site to the love of the Father. How many trif- 
ling amusements behoved to be painfully sur- 
rendered, if a sense of God's will were to tell 
upon the conscience with all the energy that is 
due to it. How many darling habits abandoned, 
if the whole man were brought under the do- 
minion of this imperious visitor; — how many 
affections torn away from the objects on which 



SERMON XIII. 321 



they are now fastened, if his presence were at 
all times attended to, and he was regarded with 
that affection which he at all times demands of 
us ! 

This may explain a fact, which we fear must 
come near to the conscience of many a respect- 
able man, and that is, the recoil which he has of- 
ten experienced, as if from some object of se- 
vere and unconquerable aversion, when the 
preacher urges upon his thoughts some scrip- 
tural representations either of the will or the 
character of God. Or take this fact in another 
Way, and in which it presents itself, if not more 
strikingly, at least more habitually ; and that is, 
the undeniable circumstance of God being shut 
out of his thoughts for the great majority of his 
time, and him feeling the same kind of ease, at 
the exclusion, as when he shuts the door on the 
most unwelcome of his visitors. The reason is, 
that the inner man, busied with other objects, 
would positively be offended at the intrusion of 
the thought of God. It is because, to admit 
him, with all his high claims and spiritual re- 
quirements into your mind, would be to disturb 
you in the enjoyment of objects which are bet- 
ter loved and more sought after than he. It is 
because your heart is occupied with idols, that 
God is shut out of it. It is because your heart 
is after another treasure. It is because your 
heart is set upon other things. Whether it be 

41 



322 SERMON XIII. 



wealth, or amusement, or distinction, or the ease 
and the pleasures of life, we pretend not to 
know ; but there is a something, which is your 
god, to the exclusion of the great God of hea- 
ven and earth. The Being who is upholding 
you all the time, and in virtue of whose preserv- 
ing hand, you live, and think, and enjoy, is all 
the while unminded and unregarded by you. 
You look upon him as an interruption. It is of 
no consequence to the argument what the occu- 
pation of your heart be, if it is such an occupa- 
tion as excludes God from it. It may be what 
the world calls a vicious occupation, — the pur- 
suits of a dishonest, or the debaucheries of a 
profligate life, — and, in this case, the world has 
no objection to stigmatise you with enmity against 
God. Or it may be what the world calls an 
innocent occupation — amusement to make you 
happy, work to earn a subsistence, business to es- 
tablish a liberal provision for your families. But 
your heart may be so given to it, that God is rob- 
bed of his portion of your heart altogether. Or it 
may be what the world calls an honourable oc- 
cupation, — the pursuit of eminence in the walks 
of science or of patriotism ; and still there may 
be an exclusion, or a hatred, of the God who 
puts in for all things being done to his glory. 
Or it may be what the world calls an elegant oc- 
cupation, — even that of a mind enamoured with 
the tastefulness of literature ; but it may be so 
enamoured with this, that the God who created 



SERMON XIII. 



323 



jour mind, and all the tastes which are within 
it, and all the objects which are without it, and 
which minister to its most exquisite gratifica- 
tion, — this God, we say, may be turned away from 
with a feeling of the most nauseous antipathy, 
and you may give the most substantial evidence 
of your hatred to him, by ridding your thoughts 
of him altogether. Or, lastly, it may be what the 
world calls a virtuous occupation, even that of a 
mind bustling with the full play of its energies, 
among enterprises of charity and plans of public 
good. Yet even here, wonderful as you may think 
it, there may be a total exclusion and forgetful- 
ness of God : and, while the mind is filled and 
gratified with a rejoicing sense of its activity 
and its usefulness, it maybe merely delighting 
itself with a constitutional gratification, — and 
God the author of that constitution, be never 
thought of, — or, if thought of according to the 
holiness of his attributes, and the nature of that 
friendship, opposite to the friendship of the 
world, which he demands of us, and the kind 
of employment which forms the reward and 
the happiness of his saints in eternity, even the 
praise and the contemplation of himself, — if 
thought of, we say, according to this his real 
character, and these the real requirements that 
he lays upon us, — even the man to whom the 
word yields the homage of virtue may think of his 
God with feelings of ofFensiveness and disgust, 



32-1 



SERMON XIII. 



There is nothing monstrous in all this, to the 
men of our world, seeing that they have each 
a share in that deep and lurking ungodliness, 
which has both so vitiated our nature, and so 
blinded all who inherit this nature, against a 
sense of its enormity. But only conceive how 
it must be thought of, and how the contempla- 
tion of it must be felt, among those who can 
look on character, with a spiritual and intelli- 
gent estimation. How must the pure eye of an 
angel be moved at such a spectacle of worth- 
lessness, — and surely, in the records of heaven, 
this great moral peculiarity of our outcast race 
must stand engraven as that, which of all 
others, has the character of guilt most nakedly 
and most essentially belonging to it. That the 
bosom of a thing formed should feel cold or 
indifferent to him who formed it, — that not a 
thought or an image should be so unwelcome 
to man, as that of his Maker, — that the crea- 
ture should thus turn round on its Creator, and 
eye disgust upon him, — that its every breath 
should be envenomed with hatred against him 
who inspired it, — or, if it be not hatred, but 
only unconcern, or disinclination, that even 
this should be the real disposition of a fashion- 
ed and sustained being, towards the hand of 
his Preserver, — there is a perversity here, 
which time may palliate for a season, but 
which, under a universal reign of justice, must 



SERMON XIII. 325 



at length be brought out to its adequate con- 
demnation. And on that day, when the earth 
is to be burnt up, and all its flatteries shall 
have subsided, will it be seen of many a heart 
that rejoiced in the applause and friendship of 
this world, that, alienated from the love of 
God, it was indeed in the gall of bitterness, and 
in the bond of iniquity. 

Nor does it palliate the representation which 
we have now given, that a God, in the fancied 
array of poetic loveliness — that a God of mere 
natural perfection, and without one other moral 
attribute than the single attribute of indulgence 
— that a God, divested of all which can make 
him repulsive to sinners, and, for this purpose, 
shorn of all those glories, which truth and au- 
thority, and holiness, throw around his charac- 
ter — that such a God should be idolized at times 
by many a sentimentalist. It would form no 
deduction from our enmity against the true 
God, that we give an occasional hour to the 
worship of a graven image, made with our own 
hands — and it is just of as little significancy to 
the argument, that we feel an occasional glow 
of affection or of reverence, towards a fictitious 
being of our own imagination. If there be truth 
in the Bible, it is there where God has made 
an authentic exhibition of his nature, — and if 
God in Christ be an offence to you — if you dis- 
like this way of approach — if you shrink from 
the contemplation of that Being, who bids you 



326 



SERMON XIII. 



sanctify him in your hearts, and who claims such 
a preference in your regard, as shall dispossess 
your affections for all that is earthly — if you 
have no relish for the intercourse of prayer, and 
of spiritual communion with such a God — if 
your memory neither love to recal him, nor your 
fancy to dwell upon him, nor he be the being 
with whom you greatly delight yourself, the ha- 
bitation to which you resort continually, — then 
be assured, that amid the painted insignificancy 
of all your other accomplishments, your heart 
is not right with God ; and he who is the Father 
of your existence, and of all that gladdens it, 
may still be to you a loathing and an abomina- 
tion. 

Neither does it palliate the representation, 
which we have now offered, that we do many 
things with the direct object of doing that which 
is pleasing to God. It is true, there cannot be love 
where there is no desire to please ; but it is as 
true, that there may be a desire to please where 
there is no love. Why, I may both hate and 
fear the man, whom I may find it very con- 
venient to please ; and to secure whose favour, 
I may practise a thousand arts of accommoda- 
tion and compliance. I may comply by action — 
but instead of complying with my will, I may 
abominate the necessity which constrains me. 
I may be subject to his pleasure in my person, 
and in my performances — but you would not 
say, while hatred rankled within me, that I was 



SERMON XIIL 



327 



subject to him with my mind. A sovereign may 
overrule the humours of a rebellious province, by 
the presence of his resistless military — but you 
would not say that there was any loyalty in this 
forced subordination. He may compel the bon- 
dage of their actual services — but you would 
not say, that it was in this part of his domi- 
nions, where the principle of subjection to him 
existed in the minds of the people. We have 
already affirmed, that though our will went along 
with a number of performances, which in the 
matter of them were agreeable to God's law — 
this was far from an unfailing indication of love 
to God ; for there may be a thousand other con- 
stitutional principles, the residence and opera- 
tion of which in the heart may give rise to these 
performances, while there was an utter distaste, 
and hostility on our part to God. They may be 
done, not because God wills the doing, but be- 
cause the doing falls in with our humour, or our 
interest, or our vanity, or our instinctive grati- 
fication. But now we are prepared to go far- 
ther, and say, that they may be done, because 
God wills the doing, and yet there may be an 
utter want of subjection in the mind, to the law 
of God. The terror of his power may constrain 
you to many acts of obedience, even as the call, 
" Flee from the coming wrath," told on the dis- 
ciples of John the Baptist. But obedience may 
be rendered to all the requirements of this pro- 
phet. Thieves, and swearers, and sabbath-break- 



328 



SERMON XIII. 



ers, may, under the fear of the coming vengeance, 
give up their respective enormities, and yet 
their minds be altogether carnal, and utterly 
destitute of subjection to the law of God. There 
may be the obedience of the hand, while there is 
the gall of bitterness in the heart, at the necessi- 
ty which constrains it. It may not be the consent- 
ing of the mind, to the law of him whom you 
delight to please, and to honour. Now, this is 
the service for which it is the aim of Christiani- 
ty to prepare you. It is by putting that law, 
which was graven on tables of stone, upon the 
tables of your heart, that it enables you to yield 
that obedience, which is acceptable to God. 
He is grieved at the reluctancy of your services. 
No performances can satisfy him, while your 
heart remains in shut and shielded alienation 
against him. What he wants, is to gain the 
friendship and the confidence of his creatures; 
and he feels all the concern of a wounded and 
mortified father, when he knocks at the door of 
your heart, and finds its affections to be away 
from him. He condescends to plead the matter, 
and with the tenderness of a disappointed father, 
does he say, " Wherein have I wearied you, O 
children of Israel, testify against me ?" You may 
fear him ; you may heap sacrifices upon his al- 
tar ; you may bring the outer man to something 
like a slavish obedience, at his bidding,— but 
till your heart be subdued, by that great pro- 
cess, which all who are his spiritual subject* 



SERMON XIII. 



329 



must undergo, you are carnal, and you do not 
love him. Your obedience is like a body with- 
out a soul. The very principle which gives it 
all its value, is wanting. It is this which turns 
the whole to bitterness. It is this, which, with 
all the bustling activity of your services, keeps 
you dead in trespasses and sins. It is this which 
mars every religious performance, and imparts 
the character of rebelliousness to every one item, 
in the list of your plausible and ostentatious du- 
ties. There is not one of them which is not ac- 
companied with an act of disobedience, and that 
too, to the first and greatest commandment, by 
which we are called upon to love the Lord 
with all our heart, strength, and soul. Though 
the hand should be subject, — -though the mouth 
should be subject, — though all the organs of the 
outer man should be subject ; yet it availeth 
nothing, if the will of the mind is not subject. 
I could sell all my goods to feed the poor. 
I could compel my hand to sign an order to 
that effect, — and I could keep my hand from re- 
versing that order till it was executed. But all 
this I may do, says Paul, and yet have nothing, 
because I have not charity. It is not the act of 
well doing to your neighbour, but a principle 
of love to your neighbour, on which God stamps 
the testimony of his approbation. In like man- 
ner, it is not the act of well doing to God, but 
the principle of love to God, which he values ;- — 
and if this be withheld from him, you are car- 

42 



330 



SERMON XIII. 



nal ; and with all your painful and multiplied 
attempts at obedience, your mind is not subject 
to the law of God. 

We shall conclude, at present, with two short 
reflections. 

First, If any of you are convinced of the just- 
ness of the representations which we have now 
given, you will perceive, that your guilt in the 
sight of God, may be of a far deeper and more 
alarming kind, than men are generally aware of. 
And such a view of the matter may be quite in- 
tolerable to him who nauseates the peculiarities of 
the gospel, — to him who has a contempt for the 
foolishness of that preaching ? of which the great 
burden is Jesus Christ, and him crucified, — to 
him, in a word, whom the true description of 
our moral disease, must terrify or offend, — see- 
ing that he carries a distaste in his heart toward 
the alone remedy, by which the disease can be 
met and extirpated. 

But secondly, There is another class of people, 
whom such a view of the actual state of human 
nature ought to tranquillize, by bringing their 
minds out of perplexity, into a state of firm and 
confident decision. There are often in a con- 
gregation, a set of hearers not yet shut up into 
the faith, but approaching towards it, — with a 
growing taste for the Christianity of the New Tes- 
tament, but without a full and a final acquiescence 
in it, — with an opening and an enlarging sense of 
the importance of the gospel, but still halting be- 



[SERMON XIII 



331 



tween two opinions respecting it ; who, in parti- 
cular, are not sure where their sole dependance 
for salvation should be placed, whether singly 
upon their own performances, or singly upon the 
righteousness of Christ, or jointly upon both. 
Now, we trust that the lesson of our text may 
have the effect with some, of bringing this un- 
settled account more speedily to its termination. 
You may have hitherto, perhaps, been under the 
impression, that the condition of man was not 
just so bad as to require a Saviour, who must 
undertake the whole of his cure, and bring 
about the whole of his salvation. You have 
attempted to share with the Saviour in the mat- 
ter of your redemption. Instead of looking 
upon it with the eye of the Apostle, as be- 
ing all of grace, or all of works, you have, in 
some way or other, attempted a compromise 
between them ; and this has the undoubted ef- 
fect of keeping you at a distance from Christ. 
You have not felt your entire need of him, and 
therefore you have not leaned in close and con- 
stant dependence upon him. But let the torch 
of a spiritual law be lifted over your characters, 
and through the guise of its external decencies 
reveal to you the mountain of iniquity within ; 
let the deformity of the heart be made known, 
and you become sensible of the fruitlessness of 
every endeavour, so long as the consent of a 
willing cordiality is withheld from the person 
and authority of God ; let the utter powerless- 




332 SERMON XIII. 



ness of all your doings, be contrasted with the 
perversity of your stubborn and unmanageable 
desires, and the case is seen in all its help- 
lessness ; — you become desperate of salvation in 
one way, and you are led to look for it in an- 
other way. The question, whether salvation is 
of grace or of works, receives its most decisive 
settlement ; — when thus driven away from one 
term of the alternative, you are compelled, as 
your only resource, to the other term. You feel 
that nothing else will do for your acceptance 
with God, but you* acceptance of the offered 
Saviour. You stand at the foot of the cross, — 
you make an absolute surrender of yourself to 
the terms of the gospel. 

And we know not a more blissful or a more 
memorable event, in the history of the human 
soul, than, when convinced that there is no other 
righteousness than in the merits, and no other 
sanctifi cation than in the grace of the Saviour, it 
henceforth glories only in his cross ; and now, 
that every other expedient of reformation has 
been tried, and failed of its accomplishment, it 
takes to the remaining one of crying mightily to 
God, and pressing, at a throne of grace, the sup- 
plication of the Psalmist, " Create a clean heart, 
and renew a right spirit within me." 

One thing is certain ; you are welcome^ at this 
moment, to lay hold of the righteousness of 
God, in Christ Jesus ; you are welcome, at this 
moment, to the use of his prevailing jaame, in 



SERMON XIII. 333 



your prayers to the Father ; you are welcome, at 
this moment, to the plea of his meritorious obe- 
dience, and of his atoning death ; and you are 
welcome, at this moment, to the promise of the 
Spirit, given unto all who believe, whereby the 
enmity $f their carnal minds will be done 
away, — God will no longer be regarded with 
antipathy and disgust, — he will appear in the 
face of Jesus Christ as a reconciled Father, — 
he will pour upon you the spirit of adoption, — 
you will walk before him without fear, — and 
those bonds being loosed, wherewith you were 
formerly held, you will yield to him the willing 
obedience of those whose hearts are enlarged, 
and who run, with delight, in the way of his 
commandments. 



SERMON. XIV. 



t HE POWER OF THE GOSPEL TO DISSOLVE THE 
ENMITY OF THE HUMAN HEART AGAINST GOD. 



Ethes. ii. 16. 
" Having slain the enmity thereby." 

H. We shall now consider how it is that the 
gospel of Jesus Christ, suits its application to 
this great moral disease. 

The necessity of some singular expedient, for 
restoring the love of God to the alienated heart 
of man, will appear from the utter impossibility 
of bringing this about by any direct application 
of authority whatever. For, do you think that 
the delivery of the law of love, in his hearing, 
as a positive and indispensable enactment com- 
ing forth from the legislature of heaven, will do 
it ? You may as well pass a law, making it im- 
perative upon him to delight in pain, and to 
feel comfort on a bed of torture ? Or, do you 
think, that you will ever give a practical esta- 
blishment to the law of love, by surrounding it 
with accumulated penalties ? This may irritate, 



SERMON XIV. 335 



or it may terrify, — but for the purpose of beget- 
ting any thing like attachment, one may as well 
think of lashing another into tender regard for 
him. Or, do you think, that the terrors of the 
coming vengeance will ever incline a human 
being to love the God who threatens him ? 
Powerful as these terrors are, in persuading man 
to turn from the evil of his ways, — they most 
assuredly do not form the artillery by which 
the heart of man can be carried. They draw 
not forth a single affection, but the affection of 
fear. They never can charm the human bo- 
som into a feeling of attachment to God. And 
it goes to prove the necessity of some singular 
expedient, for restoring man to fellpwship with 
his Maker ; that the only obedience on which this 
fellowship can be perpetuated, is an obedience 
which no threatenings can force, — to which no 
warnings of displeasure can reclaim, — which all 
the solemn proclamations of law and justice can- 
not carry, — and all the terrors and severities of 
a sovereignty resting on power, as its only foun- 
dation, can never subdue. The utterance of 
the words, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, 
or perish everlastingly, can no more open the 
shut and alienated heart of man, than it can 
open a gate of iron. Multiply these arguments 
of terror as you may, — arm them with tenfold 
energy, and make them to fall in thunder on the 
sinner's ears, — tell him of the God of judg- 
ment, and manifest to him the frown of his an- 



336 



SERMON XIV. 



gry countenance, — lay before him the grim 
aspect of his impending death, and spread a 
deeper mantle of despair over the vast field of 
that eternity which is on the other side of it ; — 
You may disquiet him, and right that he should 
be so, — you may prevail on him to give up many 
evil doings, and right that the whole urgency 
of the coming wrath should be employed to 
make him give them up immediately, — you may 
set him a trembling at the power of God, and 
better this than spending his guilty career, in 
thoughtlessness and unconcern, about the great 
Lawgiver ; — but where, in the midst of all this, 
shall we find obedience to the very first and 
greatest commandment of the law ? Has this 
obedience been yet so much as entered on ? Has 
love to God so much as reached the infancy of 
its existence, in that heart which is now begin- 
ning to be agitated by its terrors ? Amid all the 
bitterness of remorse, and all the fearful looking 
for of judgment, and all the restless anxieties 
of conscious guilt, and anticipated vengeance, 
tell us, if a single particle of tenderness towards 
God, has any place in this restless and despair- 
ing bosom ? Tell us, if it act as an element at 
all, in this wild war of turbulence and disorder ? 
Or, has it yet begun to dawn upon the mind, 
and spread its salutary and composing charm 
over that dark scene of conflict, under which 
many a sinner has to sustain the burden of the 
wearisome nights, that are appointed to him? 



SERMON XIV. 



337 



You may seek for love to God throughout all 
the chambers of his heart, and seek in vain. 
The man may be acting such reformations as 
he is driven to, and may be clothing himself 
in such visible decencies, as he feels himself 
compelled to put on, and may be labouring 
away at the drudgery of such observances as 
he thinks will give him relief from the cor- 
rosions of that undying worm, which never 
ceases to goad him with its reproaches ; but as 
to the love of God, there is as grim and determin- 
ed an exclusion of this principle as ever, — that 
avenue to his heart, has never been unlocked, 
through which it might be made to find its way, 
— every former argument, so far from having 
dissolved the barrier, has only served to rivet 
and to make it more immoveable. And the dif- 
ficulty still lies upon us, — how are we to deposit 
in the heart of man, the only right principle of 
obedience to God, — and to lead him onward in 
the single way of a pure, and spiritual, and sub- 
stantial repentance ? 

This, then, is a case of difficulty, and, in the 
Bible, God is said to have lavished all the riches 
of his unsearchable wisdom on the business of 
managing it. No wonder that to his angels it 
appeared a mystery, and that they desired to 
look into it. It appears a matter of direct and 
obvious facility to intimidate man, — and to bring 
his body into a forced subordination to all the 
requirements. But the great matter was, how , 

43 



$38 



SERMON XIV. 



to attach man, — how to work in him a liking to 
God, and a relish for his character ; — or, in other 
words, how to communicate to human obedience, 
that principle, without which, it is no obedience 
at all, — to make him serve God, because he loved 
him ; and to run in the way of ail his command- 
ments, because this was the thing in which he 
greatly delighted himself. To lay upon us the 
demand of satisfaction for his violated law, could 
not do it. To press home the claims of justice 
upon any sense of authority within us, could not 
doit. To bring forward, in threatening array, 
the terrors of his judgment, and of his power 
against us, could not do it. To unveil the 
glories of that throne where he sitteth in equity, 
and manifest to his guilty creatures the awful 
inflexibilities of his truth and righteousness, 
could not do it. To look out from the cloud of 
vengeance, and trouble our darkened souls as he 
did those of the Egyptians of old, with the as- 
pect of a menacing Deity, could not do it. To 
spread the field of an undone eternity before 
us, and tell us of those dreary abodes where 
each criminal hath his bed in hell, and the cen- 
times of despair which pass over him are not 
counted, because there no seasons roll, and the 
unhappy victims of the tribulation, and the 
wrath, and the anguish, know, that for the 
mighty burden of the sufferings which weigh 
upon them, there is no end, and no mitigation ; 
this prospect appalling as it is, and coming home 



SERMON XIV. 33$ 



upon the belief with all the characters of the 
most immutable certainty, could not do it. The 
affections of the inner man remain as unmoved 
as ever, under the successive and repeated in- 
fluence of all these dreadful applications. There 
is not one of them, which, instead of conciliat- 
ing, does hot stir up a principle of resistance ; 
and, subject any human creature to the treat- 
ment of them all, and to nothing else, and he 
may tremble at God, and shrink from the con- 
templation of God, and feel an overpowering 
awe at the thought of God, when that thought 
visits him ; — but we maintain, that not one par- 
ticle of influence has been gent' into, his heart, 
to make him love God. Under such appli- 
cations as these ? we can; conceive the creature, 
gathering a new energy from despair, and mus- 
tering up a stouter defiance than ever, to the 
God who threatens him. Strange contest be- 
tween the thing formed and him who formed it ; 
— but we see it exhibited among the determined 
votaries of wickedness in life ; and it is the 
very contest which gives its moral aspect to hell 
throughout all eternity. There, God reigns in 
vindictive majesty, and there, every heart of 
every outcast, sheathed in impenetrable hard- 
ness, mutters its blasphemies against him. O 
hideous and revolting spectacle ! and how awful 
to think, that the unreclaimed sons of profligacy, 
who pour along our streets, and throng our mar- 
kets, and form the fearful majority in almost 



340 SERMON XIV. 



every chamber of business, and in every work- 
shop of industry, are thither speeding their in- 
fatuated way I What a wretched field of contem- 
plation is around us, when we see on every side 
of it the mutual encouragement, — the ever-ply- 
ing allurements, — the tacit, though effectual and 
well understood, combination, sustaining, over 
the whole face of this alienated world, a firm 
and systematic rebellion against God ! We are 
not offering an exaggerated picture when we say, 
that within reach of the walk of a single hour, 
there are thousands, and thousands more, who 
have cast away from them the authority of God ; 
and who have been nerved by all his threaten- 
ings into a more determined attitude of wick- 
edness ; and who glory in their unprincipled dis- 
sipations ; and who, without one sigh at the mov- 
ing spectacle of ruined innocence, will, in the 
hearing of companions younger than them- 
selves, scatter their pestilential levities around 
them, and care not though the hope of parents, 
and the yet unvitiated delicacy of youth, shall 
wither and expire under the contagion of their 
ruffian example ; and will patronize every step of 
that progress which leads from one depravity to 
another, till their ill fated proselyte made as 
much the child of hell as themselves, shall 
share in that common ruin which, in the great 
day of the revelation of the righteous judgment 
of God, will come forth from the storehouse of 
his wrath, in one mighty torrent, on the heads 



SERMON XIV. 341 

of all who boast of their iniquity. We have 
now touched on the limits of a subject of 
which half its horrors are untold ; but through 
which, the minister, of the counsels of heaven 
must clear his intrepid way, in spite of all its 
painfulness. We will not pursue it at present, 
but neither will we count the digression out 
of place — should a single parent among you be 
led, from what we have now uttered, to have 
over his children with a godly jealousy, and not 
to suffer those, for whose eternity he is so deep- 
ly responsible, to take their random direction 
through«ociety,just where the prospects of busi- 
ness, and of worldly advantage, may chance to 
carry them ; to calculate on the possibilities of 
moral corruption, as well as on the possibilities 
of lucrative employment ; to look well to expo- 
sures and acquaintances, and hours of social 
entertainment, as well as to the common-place 
object of a situation in the world. And when 
you talk of a good line for your children, 
just think a little more of the line that lead- 
eth to eternity, and have a care lest you be 
the instrument of putting them on such a path 
of danger, that it shall only be by the very 
rarest miracle of grace, that your helpless young 
can be kept from falling, or be renewed again 
into repentance. 

But the difficulty in question still remains 
unresolved. How then is this regeneration to 
be wrought, if no threatenings can work it, — if 



M2 



SERMON XIV. 



no terrors of judgment can soften the heart into 
that love of God, which forms the chief feature 
of repentance,— -if all the direct applications of 
law and of righteous authority, and of its tre- 
mendous and immutable sanctions, so far from 
attaching man in tenderness to his God, have 
only the effect of impressing a violent recoil 
upon all his affections, and, by the hardening 
influence of despair, of stirring up in his bosom 
a more violent antipathy than ever? Will the 
high and solemn proclamations of a menacing 
Deity not do it ? This is not the way in which 
the heart of man can be carried. He is so consti- 
tuted, that the law of love can never never be 
established within him by the engine of terror ; 
and here is the barrier to this regeneration on the 
part of man. But if a threat of justice cannot 
do it, will an act of forgiveness do it ? This 
again is not the way in which God can admit 
the guilty to acceptance. He is so constituted, 
that his truth cannot be trampled upon, and 
his government cannot be despoiled of its au- 
thority, and its sanctions cannot, with impu- 
nity, be defied, and every solemn utterance of 
the Deity cannot but find its accomplishment, 
in such a way as may vindicate his glory, and 
make the whole creation he has formed stand in 
awe of its Almighty Sovereign. And here is 
another barrier on the part of God ; and that 
economy of redemption, in which a dead and 
undiscerning world see no skilfulness to admire. 



SERMON XIV. 343 



and no feature of graciousness to allure them, 
is so planned, in the upper counsels of heaven,, 
that it maketh known, to principalities and 
power, the manifold wisdom of Him who de- 
vised it. The men of this infidel generation, 
whose every faculty is so bedimmed by the 
grossness of sense, that they cannot lay hold of 
the realities of faith, and cannot appreciate them, 
— to them the barriers we have now insisted 
on which lie in the way of man, taking God in- 
to his love, and of God taking man into his ac- 
ceptance, may appear to be so many faint and 
shadowy considerations, of which they feel not 
the significancy ; but, to the pure and intellec- 
tual eye of angels, they are substantial obstacles, 
and are Mighty to Save had to travel in the 
greatness of his strength, in order to move them 
away. The Son of God descended from hea- 
ven, and he took upon him the nature of man ? 
and he suffered in his stead, and he consented 
that the whole burden of offended justice should 
fall upon him, and he bore in his own body on 
the tree, the weight of all those accomplishments 
by which his Father behoved to be glorified? 
and after having magnified the law, and made 
it honourable, by pouring out his soul unto the 
death for us, he went up on high, and by an 
arm of everlasting strength, he has levelled that 
w all of partition which lay across the path of 
acceptance ; and thus it is that the barrier on 
the part of God is done away, and he, with 



3U SERMON XIY. 



untarnished glory, can dispense forgiveness over 
the whole extent of a guilty creation, because 
he can be just, while he is the justifier of them 
who believe in Jesus. 

And if the barrier, on the part of God, is thus 
moved aside, why not the barrier on the part of 
man ? Does not the wisdom of redemption shew 
itself here also ? Does it not embrace some skil- 
ful contrivance, by which it penetrates those 
mounds that beset the human heart, and ward 
the entrance of the principle of love away from 
it, and which all the direct applications of ter- 
ror and authority, have only the effect of fixing 
more immoveably upon their basis ? Yes it does, 
—for it changes the aspect of the Deity towards 
man ; and were man only to have faith in the 
announcements of the gospel, so as to see God 
with the eye of his mind under this new aspect, 
— love to God would spring up in his heart, as 
the unfailing consequence. Let man see God as 
he sets himself forth in this wonderful revelation, 
and let him believe the reality of what he sees; and 
he cannot but love the Being he is employed in 
contemplating. Without this gospel, he may see 
him to be a God of justice ; but he cannot do 
this without seeing the frown of severity direct- 
ed against himself, a wretched offender : With 
this gospel, he sees the full burden of violated 
justice borne away from him; and God stands 
before him unrobed of all his severities, and 
tenderly inviting him to draw near through that 



SERMdN XIV. 345 

blood of atonement which was shed, the just for 
the unjust, to bring the sinner unto God. With- 
out this gospel, he may see the truth of God ; 
but he sees it pledged, to the fulfilment of the 
most awful threatenings against him : With this 
gospel, he sees the full weight of all these ac- 
complishments, resting on the head of the great 
sacrifice ; and God's truth is now fully embark- 
ed on the most cheering assurances of pardon, 
on the most liberal invitations of good will, 
on the most exceeding great and precious pro- 
mises. Without this gospel, he may see the 
government of God leaning on the pillars of that 
immutability which upholds it; but this very 
immutability is to him the sentence of despair ; 
and how can he love that face, on which are 
stamped the characters of a stern and vindictive 
majesty? With this gospel, the face of God 
stands legibly revealed to him in other charac- 
ters. That law which, resting on the solemn 
authority of its firm and unalterable require- 
ments, demanded a fulfilment, up to the last jot 
and tittle of it, has been magnified, and has been 
made honourable, by one illustrious sufferer, who 
put forth the greatness of his strength, in that 
dark hour of the travail of his soul, when he bore 
the burden of all its penalties. That wrath 
which should have been discharged on the 
guilty millions he died for, was all concentred 
upon him, who took upon himself the chastise- 
ment of our peace, and on that day of myste- 

, • 44 



\ 



SERMON XIV. 



rious agony, drank, to the very dregs, the cup 
of our expiation. And God, who planned the 
whole work of this wonderful redemption, — 
who in love to a guilty world sent his Son a- 
mongst us to accomplish it, — God, who rather 
than lose his alienated creatures, as he could 
not strip his eternal throne of a single attribute 
that supported it* awoke the sword of vengeance 
against his fellow, that on him the truth and the 
justice of the Deity might receive their most il- 
lustrious vindication — God, who, out of Christ, 
sits surrounded with all the darkness of unap- 
proachable majesty, is now God in Christ, re- 
conciling the world unto himself, and not im- 
puting unto them their trespasses; his tender 
mercy is now free to rejoice amid all the glory 
of his other bright and untarnished perfections, 
and he pours the expression of this tenderness* 
with an unsparing hand, over the whole extent 
of his sinful creation — and he lets himself down 
to the language of a beseeching supplicant, 
praying that each and every one of us might 
be reconciled unto him— -and putting on a win- 
ning countenance of invitation to the guiltiest 
of us all, he tells us, that if we only come to him 
through the appointed mediator, he will blot out 
as with a thick cloud, our transgressions — and 
that, as if carried away to a land that was not 
inhabited, he will make no more mention of 
them. 

And thus it is, that the goodness of God de- 



SERMON XIV. 347 



stroyeth the enmity of the human heart. When 
every other argument fails, this, if perceived 
by the eye of faith, finds its powerful and per- 
suasive way through every barrier of resistance. 
Try to approach the heart of man by the instru- 
ments of terror and of authority, and it will dis- 
dainfully repel you. There is not one of you 
skilled in the management of human nature, who 
does not perceive, that though this may be a 
way of working on the other principles of our 
constitution, — of working on the fears of man, 
or on his sense of interest, this is not the way 
of gaining by a single hair-breadth on the at- 
tachments of his heart. Such a way may force, 
or it may terrify, but it never, never can endear ; 
and after all the threatening array of such an 
influence as this, is brought to bear upon man, 
there is not one particle of service it can ex- 
tort from him, but what is all rendered in the 
spirit of a painful and reluctant bondage. 
Now, this is not the service which prepares for 
heaven. This is not the service which assimi- 
lates men to angels. This is not the obedience 
of those glorified spirits, whose every affection 
harmonizes with their every performance ; and 
the very essence of whose piety consists of de- 
light in God, and the love they bear to him. 
To bring up man to such an obedience as 
this, his heart behoved to be approached in 
a peculiar way; and no such way is to be 
found, but within the limits of the Christian 



348 



SERMON XIV. 



revelation. There alone you see God, without 
injury to his other attributes, plying the heart 
of man with the irresistible argument of kind- 
ness. There alone do you see the great 
Lord of heaven and of earth, setting himself 
forth to the most worthless and the most wan- 
dering of his children, — putting forth his 
own hand to the work of healing the breach 
which sin had made between them, — telling 
him that his word could not be set aside, and 
his threatenings could not be mocked, and his 
justice could not be defied and trampled on, 
and that it was not possible for his perfections 
to receive the slightest taint in the eyes of the 
creation he had thrown around him ; but that 
all this was provided for, and not a single crea- 
ture within the compass of the universe he had 
formed, could now say, that forgiveness to man 
was degrading to the authority of God, and that 
by the very act of atonement, which poured a 
glory over all the high attributes of his charac- 
ter, his mercy might now burst forth without 
limit, and without controul, upon a guilty world 
and the broad flag of invitation be unfurled in 
the sight of all its families. 

Let the sinner, then, look to God through the 
medium of such a revelation ; and the sight 
which meets him there, may well tame the ob- 
stinacy of that heart, which had wrapped itself 
up in impenetrable hardness against the force of 



SERMON XIV. 



349 



every other consideration. Now that the storm 
of the Almighty's wrath has been discharged 
upon him who bore the burden of the world's 
atonement, he has turned his throne of glory 
into a throne of grace, and cleared away from 
the pavilion of his residence, all the darkness 
which encompassed it. The God who dwelleth 
there, is God in Christ ; and the voice he sends 
from it, to this dark and rebellious province of his 
mighty empire, is a voice of the most beseeching 
tenderness. Good will to men is the announce- 
ment with which his messengers come fraught 
to a guilty world ; and, since the moment in 
which it burst upon mortal ears from the peace- 
ful canopy of heaven, may the ministers of sal- 
vation take it up, and go round with it among 
all the tribes and individuals of the species. — 
Such is the real aspect of God towards you. 
He cannot bear that his alienated children 
should be finally and everlastingly away from 
him. He feels for you all the longing of a pa- 
rent bereaved of his offspring. To woo you 
back again unto himself, he scatters among you 
the largest and the most liberal assurances, and 
with a tone of imploring tenderness, does he 
say to one and to all of you, " Turn ye, turn ye, 
why will you die ?" He has no pleasure in your 
death. He does not want to glorify himself by 
the destruction of any one of you. " Look to me 
all ye ends of the earth, and be saved," is the 
wide and the generous announcement, by which 



350 SERMON XIV. 



he would recal, from the very outermost limits of 
his sinful creation, the most worthless and pol- 
luted of those who have wandered away from 
him. Now give us a man who perceives, with 
the eye of his mind, the reality of all this, and 
you give us a man in possession of the prin- 
ciple of faith. Give us a man in possession of 
this faith ; and his heart shielded, as it were, 
against the terrors of a menacing Deity, is sof- 
tened and subdued, and resigns its every affec- 
tion at the moving spectacle of a beseeching 
Deity ; and thus it is that faith manifests the at- 
tribute which the Bible assigns to it, of work- 
ing by love. Give us a man in possession of 
this love ; and animated as he is, with the living 
principle of that obedience, where the willing 
and delighted consent of the inner man goes 
along with the performance of the outer man, 
his love manifests the attribute which the Bi- 
ble assigns to n% where it says, " This is the 
love of God, that ye keep his commandments." 
And thus it is, amid the fruitlessness of every 
other expedient, when power threatened to 
crush the heart which it could not soften, — 
when authority lifted its voice, and laid on man 
an enactment of love which it could not carry, 
— when terror shot its arrows, and they dropped 
ineffectual from that citadel of the human affec- 
tions, which stood proof against the impression 
of every one of them, — when wrath mustered 
up its appalling severities, and filled that bosom 



SERMON XIV. 



351 



with despair which it could not fill with the 
warmth of a confiding attachment, — then the 
kindness of an inviting God was brought to bear 
on the heart of man, and got an opening through 
all its mysterious avenues. Goodness did what 
the nakedness of power could not do. It found 
its way through all the intricacies of the human 
constitution, and there, depositing the right 
principle of repentance, did it establish the 
alone effectual security for the right purposes, 
and the right fruits of repentance* 



SERMON XV. 



THE EVILS OF FALSE SECURITY. 



Jeremiah vi. 14. 

i: They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my 
people slightly, saying, Peace, Peace ; when there is no 
peace." 

We must all have remarked, on what a slight 
and passing consideration people will dispose 
of a question which relates to the interest of 
their eternity; and how strikingly this stands 
contrasted with the very deep, and earnest, and 
long sustained attention, which they bestow on 
a question that relates to their interest, or their 
fortune, in this world. Ere they embark, for ex- 
ample, on an enterprize of trade, they will look 
at all the sides, and all the possibilities of the 
speculation ; and every power of thought within 
them, will be put to its busiest exercise, and . 
they will enter upon it with much fearfulness, 
and they will feel an anxious concern in every 
step, and every new evolution, of such an under- 
taking. Compare this with the very loose and 
summary way in which they makeup their minds, 



SERMON XV. 353 



about the chance of happiness in another world. 
See at how easy a rate they will be satisfied with 
some maxim of security, the utterance of which 
serves as a bar against all further prosecution 
of the subject. Behold the use they make of 
some hastily assumed principle in religion, — 
not for the purpose of fastening their minds 
upon it, but for the purpose, in fact, of hurrying 
their minds away from it. For it must be ob- 
served of the people to whom we allude, that, in 
spite of all their thoughtlessness about the aifairs 
of the soul, they are not altogether without some 
opinion on the matter ; and in which opinion 
there generally is comprised all the theology of 
which they are possessed. Without some such 
opinion, even the most regardless of men might 
feel themselves in a state of restlessness ; and 
therefore it is, however seldom they are visited 
with any thought about eternity, and however 
gently this thought touches them, and however 
quickly it passes away, to be replaced by some 
of the more urgent vanities and interests of 
time, yet, with most men, there is something 
like an actual making up of their minds, on this 
awfully important subject. There is a settle- 
ment they have come to about it, which, gener- 
ally speaking, serves them to the end of their 
days ; — and on the strength of which, there are 
many who can hush within them, every alarm 
of conscience, and repel from without them, the 
whole force of a preacher's demonstration, and 



354 



SERMON XV. 



all that power of disquietude which lies in his 
faithful and impressive warnings. 

We speak in reference to a very numerous 
set of individuals, among the upper and mid- 
dling classes of society. There is a class of 
what may be called slender and sentimental 
religionists, who do profess a reverence for the 
matter, and maintain many of its outward decen- 
cies, and are visited with occasional thoughts, 
and occasional feelings of tenderness about 
death, and duty, and eternity, and would be 
shocked at the utterance of an infidel opinion ; 
and with all these symptoms of a religious in- 
clination about them, have their minds very 
comfortably made up, and altogether free from 
any apprehension, either of present wrath, or of 
coming vengeance. Now, on examining the 
ground of their tranquillity, we are at a loss to 
detect a single ingredient of that peace and joy 
in believing, which we read of among the 
Christians of the New Testament. It is not 
that Christ is set forth a propitiation for their 
sins, — it is not that they stagger not at the 
promise of God, because of unbelief, — it is 
not that the love of him is shed abroad in their 
hearts, by the Holy Ghost, — it is not that they 
carry along with them any consciousness what- 
ever, of a growing conformity to the image of 
the Saviour, — it is not that their calling and 
their election are made sure to them, by the 
successful diligence with which they are cul- 



SERMON XV. 355 



tivating the various accomplishments of the 
Christian character ; — there is not one of these 
ingredients, we will venture to say, which enters 
into the satisfaction that many feel with their 
own prospects, and into the complacency they 
have in their own attainments, and into their 
opinion, that God is looking to them with in- 
dulgence and friendship. With most of them, 
there is not only an ignorance, but a positive 
disgust, about these things. They associate 
with them the charges of methodism, and mys- 
ticism, and fanaticism ; and meanwhile cherish 
in their own hearts, a kind of impregnable con- 
fidence, resting entirely on some other founda- 
tion. 

We believe the real cause of their tran- 
quillity to be, just that eternity is not seen 
nearly enough, or urgently enough, to disturb 
them. It stands so far away on the back 
ground of their contemplation, that they are 
almost entirely taken up with the intervening 
objects. Any glimpse they have of the futurity 
which lies on the other side of time, is so faint, 
and so occasional, that its concerns never come 
to them with the urgency of a matter on hand. 
It is not so much because they think in a par- 
ticular way on this topic, that they feel them- 
selves to be at peace. It is rather, because they 
think so little of it. Still, however, they do 
have a transient and occasional thought, and 
it is all on the side of tranquillity; and could 



356 SERMON XV. 



this thought be exposed as a minister of de- 
ceitful complacency to the heart, it may have 
the effect of working in it a salutary alarm> 
and of making the possessor of it see the naked- 
ness of his condition, and of undermining every 
other trust but a trust in the offered salvation 
of the gospel, and of unsettling the blind and 
easy confidence of his former days, and of 
prompting him with the question, " What shall 
I do to be saved ?" and of leading him to try 
this question by the light of revelation, and to 
prosecute it to a scriptural conclusion, till he 
came to the answer of, " Believe in the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." 

What is the way, then, in which they do ac- 
tually make up their minds upon this subject ? 
There is, in the first place, a pretty general ad- 
mission, that we are sinners, though along with 
this, there is a disposition to palliate the enor- 
mity of sin, and to gloss it over with the gentle 
epithet of an infirmity. It is readily allowed, 
then, that we have our infirmities ; and then to 
make all right, and secure, and comfortable, the 
sentiment with which they bring the matter 
round again, is that, though we have our infir- 
mities, God is a merciful God, and he will over- 
look them. This vague, and general, and in- 
distinct apprehension of the attribute of mercy 
is the anchor of their hope ; not a very sure and 
steadfast one certainly, but just as sure and as 



SERMON XV. 35? 



steadfast, as, in their peaceful state of unconcern, 
they have any demand for. A vessel in smooth 
water needs not be very strongly fastened in her 
moorings j and really any convictions of sin they 
have, agitate them so gently, that a very slen- 
der principle indeed, uttered occasionally by 
the mouth, and with no distinct or perceptible 
hold upon the heart, is enough to quiet and sub- 
due all that is troublesome within them. A 
slight hurt needs but a slight remedy, and how- 
ever virulent the disease may be, yet, if the pa- 
tient be but gently alarmed, a gentle applica- 
tion is enough to pacify him in the mean time. 
Now, a tasteful and a tender sentiment about 
the goodness of God, is just such an applica- 
tion. He wdll not be severe upon our weak- 
nesses; he will not cast a glance of stern and 
unrelenting indignation upon us. It is true, 
that there is to be met with, among the vilest 
dregs and refuse of society, a degree of pro- 
fligacy, for which it would really be too much 
to expect forgiveness. The use of hell is for 
the punishment of such gross and enormous 
wickedness as this. But the people who are so 
very depraved, and so very shocking, stand far 
beneath the place which we occupy in the scale 
of character. We, with our many amiable, and 
good, and neighbourlike points and accomplish- 
ments, are fair and benefitting subjects for the 
kindness of God. When we err, we shall be- 



35 



SERMON XV. 



take ourselves to a trust in that indulgence^ 
which gives to our religion the aspect of so 
much cheerfulness ; and we will school down all 
that is disquieting, by a sentiment of confidence 
in that mercy which is soothing to our hearts, 
and which we delight to hear expatiated upon, 
in terms of tastefulness, by the orators of a 
genteel and cultivated piety. 

Under this loose system of confidence, then, 
by which the peace of so many a sinner is up- 
held, it is the general mercy of God on which 
he rests. [ shall, therefore, in the first place, 
endeavour to prove the vanity of such a confi- 
dence ; and, in the second place, the evils of it. 

I. There is one obvious respect, in which this 
mercy that is so slenderly spoken of, and so 
vaguely trusted in, is not in unison with truth ; 
and that is, it is not the mercy which has been 
made the subject of an actual offer from God to 
man, in the true message that he has been 
pleased to deliver to the world. In this mes- 
sage, God makes a free offer of his mercy, no 
doubt ; but he offers it on a particular footign, 
and on that footing only, will he have it to be 
received. Along with the revelation he makes 
of his attribute of mercy, he bids us look to the 
particular way, in which he chooses that attri- 
bute to be put forth. The man who steps for- 
ward to relieve you of your debts, by an act of 
gratuitous kindness, may surely reserve the pri- 
vilege of doing it in his own way ; and whether 



SERMON XV. 



359 



it be by a present in goods, or by a present in 
money, or by an order upon a third person, or 
by the appointment of one whom he makes the 
agent of his beneficence, and whom he asks you 
to correspond with and to draw upon, it would 
surely be most preposterous in you to quarrel 
with his generosity, because it would have been 
more to your taste, had it come to you through 
a different channel of conveyance. He has a 
fair right of insisting upon his own way of it : 
and if you will not acquiesce in this way, and he 
leaves you under your burden, you have nothing 
to complain of. You might have liked it better, 
had he authorised you to draw upon himself, 
rather than on the agent he has fixed upon. 
But no; he has his reasons, and he persists in 
his own way of it, and you must either go along 
with this way, or throw yourself out of the be- 
nefit of his generosity altogether. It is con- 
ceivable that, in spite of all this, you may be so 
very perverse as to draw upon himself, instead 
of drawing upon the authorized agent. Well, 
the effect is, just that your draft is dishonoured, 
and your debt still lies upon you ; and you, by 
your wilful resistance to the plan of relief laid 
down, are left to remain under the full weight 
of your embarrassments. 

And so of God. He may, and he actually 
has stepped forward, to relieve us from that 
debt of sin under which we lie. But he has 
taken his own way of it. He has not left us to 



360 



SERMON XV. 



dictate the matter to him, — but he himself has 
found out a ransom. He offers us eternal life ; 
but he tells us where this is to be found, even in 
his Son, and he bids us look unto him, and be 
saved; and he says, that he who hath the Son 
hath life, and that he who believeth not the 
Son, the wrath of God abideth on him. To 
restrain, as it were, our immediate approaches 
to himself, he reveals an agent, a Mediator be- 
tween God and man, — and he lets us know, 
that no one cometh unto the Father, but by 
him. He makes a free offer of salvation, — but 
it is in and through Jesus Christ, to whom the 
whole revealed word of God directs our eye, as 
the prime agent in the recovery of a guilty 
world. To say that we have our infirmities, 
but God is merciful, is like drawing direct upon 
God himself. But God tells us that he will 
not be so drawn upon. He chooses, and has 
he not the right of choosing, to bestow all his 
favours upon a guilty world, in and through his 
Son Christ Jesus ? If you choose to object to 
this way, you must just abide by the conse- 
quences. The offer is made. God sets him- 
self forward as merciful. But he lets you know, 
at the same time, the particular way in which 
he chooses to be so. This way may be an 
offence to you. You would perhaps have liked 
better, had there been no Christ, no preaching 
of his cross, nothing said about his cleansing, 
and peace-speaking blood, — in a word, nothing 



SERMON XV. 



361 



of all that which forms the burden of metho- 
distical sermons, and which, if met with in the 
New Testament at all, is only to be found in 
what you may think its dark and mystical pas- 
sages. It would have been more congenial to * 
your taste, perhaps, had you been left to the 
undisturbed enjoyment of your own soothing 
and elegant conceptions, — could you just have 
gone direct to God himself, whom the eye of 
your imagination had stripped of all tremen- 
dous severity against sin, of all the pure and 
holy jealousies of his nature, of all that is ma- 
jestic in the high attributes of truth and righ- 
teousness. A God singly possessed of tender- 
ness, in virtue of which, he would smile conni- 
vance at all our infirmities, and bend an in- 
dulgent eye over the waywardness of a heart, 
devoted with all its affections to the vanities 
and pleasures of time, — this would be a God 
highly suited to the taste and convenience of a 
guilty world. But, alas! there is no such God. 
To trust in the mercy of such a Being as this, 
is to lean on a nonentity of your own imagina- 
tion. It is to be led astray, by a fancy picture 
of your own forming. There is no other God 
to whom you can repair for mercy, but God in 
Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, and 
not imputing unto them their trespasses. And 
if you resist the preaching of Christ as foolish- 
ness, — if you will not recognise him, but persist 
in your hoping, and your trusting, on the gen- 

46 



$62 



SERMON XV. 



cral ground that God is merciful, you are just 
wrapping yourselves up in a delusive confidence? 
and pleasing yourselves with your own imagi- 
nation ; and the only real offer that ever was, or 
will be, made to sinful man, you are putting away 
from you. The mercy upon which you rest, is 
in disunion with truth. It is a spark of your 
ovvn kindling, and if you continue to walk in it, 
it will lead you into a path of darkness, and be- 
wilder you to your final undoing. 

II. The evils of such a confidence as we have 
been attempting to expose, are mainly reducible 
to two, which we shall consider in order. 

First, this delusive confidence casts an as- 
persion on the character of God. It would in- 
flict a mutilation upon that character. It is 
confidence in such a mercy as would dethrone 
the lawgiver, and establish the anarchy of a 
wild misrule, over his fallen and dishonoured 
attributes. We may lightly take up with the 
conception that God is all tenderness, and no- 
thing else, and thus try to accommodate the cha- 
racter of the Eternal, to the standard of our own 
convenience, and our own wishes. We, instead 
of looking to the immutability of the Godhead, 
and taking our fixed and permanent lesson from 
such a contemplation, may fancy of the God- 
head, that he is ever assuming a new shape, and 
a new character, according to the frail and fluc- 
tuating caprices of human opinion. Instead of 
God making man according to his pleasure, 



SERMON XV. 86$ 



man would form God in the mould of his own 
imagination. He forgets that, in the whole range 
of existence, he can only meet with one ob- 
ject who is inflexibly and everlastingly the same, 
and that is God, — that he may sooner think of 
causing the everlasting hills to recede from their 
basis, than of causing an infringement on the 
nature of the unalterable Deity, or on the de- 
signs and maxims which support the method of 
his administration, — that to assume a character 
for him in our own mind, instead of learning 
what the character is from himself, is in fact to 
make the foolish thought of the creature, para- 
mount to the eternal and immutable constitution 
of the Creator. 

Let us therefore give up our own conceptions, 
and look steadily to that light in which God 
hath actually put himself forth to us. He has 
dealt out a variety of communications respect- 
ing his own ever-during character and attri- 
butes, to the children of men ; and he tells us, 
that he is a God of truth, and that he is jealous 
of his honour, and that he will not be mocked, 
and that heaven and earth shall pass away, ere 
any of his words pass away. Let us just attend 
to some of these words. He who continues not 
in the whole book of this law, is accursed. The 
whole world is guilty before God. He will by 
no means clear the guilty. Without shedding 
of blood, there is no remission. These are the 
words of God. He has put them into a record. 



364 SERMON XV. 



Every one of us may read them, and compare 
the sayings of God, with the doings of God, 
and if they do not correspond, the one with the 
other, we may charge him with falsehood in the 
face of his insulting enemies, and lift the voice 
of mockery against him, and feel the triumph 
which rebels feel, when they witness the timi- 
dity of a feeble monarch, who does not, or dares 
not, carry his threats into accomplishment 
And is it possible, that the throne of the eternal 
God can rest on a basis so tottering, — or that, if 
ever he shall descend to the manifestation of 
mercy, he will not give the manifestation of his 
truth and his righteousness along with it? 

Now, those who, without any reference to 
Christ, find their way to comfort on the strength 
of their own general confidence in God's mer- 
cy, make no account whatever of his truth, or 
his righteousness. What becomes of the threat- 
enings of God ? What becomes of the immuta- 
bility of his purposes ? What becomes of the 
unfailing truth of all his communications ? What 
becomes of the solemnity of his warnings? and 
how is it possible to be at all impressed by 
them, — if they are ever and anon done away by 
a weak and capricious system of connivance ? 
What becomes of the wide and everlasting dis- 
tinctions, between obedience and sin ? What 
becomes of the holiness of the Deity ? What 
becomes of reverence for his name, among the 
wide circle of angels, and archangels, and sera- 



SERMON XV. 365 



phim, and cherubim, who have all heard his 
awful proclamations against the children of ini- 
quity, — if they see that any one of them may, 
by a mere act of confidence in his mercy, turn 
all that has been uttered against them into an 
unmeaning parade ? Where, in a word, are all 
those sanctions and securities which can alone 
make the government of the Deity, to be a go- 
vernment at all ? These are all questions which 
the people to whom we allude, never think of 
entertaining; nor do they feel the slightest 
concern about them; and they count it quite 
enough, if they can just work themselves up in- 
to such a tolerable feeling of security, as that 
they shall not be disturbed in the quiet enjoy- 
ment of the good things of this life, which form 
all in fact that their hearts long after, and which 
if only permitted to retain in peace, they posi- 
tively care not for the glory of God, or how it 
shall be kept inviolate. This is not their affair. 
The engrossing desire of their bosoms, is just a 
selfish desire after their own ease; and the 
strange preparation for that heaven, the unceas- 
ing song of which is, Holy and righteous are thy 
judgments, O thou King of Saints, is such a habit 
of confidence, as lays prostrate all the majesty 
of these high and unchangeable perfections. 

And yet if you examine these people closely, 
you will obtain their consent to the position, 
that there is a law, and that the human race are 
bound to obedience, and that the authority of 



366 SERMON XV. 

the law is supported by sanctions, and that the 
truth, and justice, and dignity of the Supreme 
Being, are involved in these sanctions being 
enforced and executed. They do not refuse 
the tenet, that man is an accountable subject, 
and that God is a judge and a lawgiver. All 
that we ask of them, then, is, to examine the 
account which this subject has to render, and 
they will find, in characters too glaring to be 
resisted, that, with the purest and most perfect 
individual amongst us, it is a wretched account 
of guilt and of deficiency. That law, which 
is held to be in full authority and operation 
over us, has been most unquestionably violated. 
Now, what is to be made of this ? Is the sub- 
ject to rebel, and disobey every hour, and the 
king, by a perpetual act of indulgence, to efface 
every character of truth and dignity from his 
government? Do this, and you depose the le- 
gislator from his throne. You reduce the sanc- 
tions of his law to a name, and a mockery. You 
bring down the high economy of heaven, to the 
standard of human convenience. You pull the 
fabric of God's moral government to pieces ; 
and unsubstantiate all the solemnity of his pro- 
claimed sayings, — all the lofty annunciations 
of the law, and of the prophets, — all that is told 
of the mighty apparatus of the day of judg- 
ment, — all that revelation points to, or con- 
science can suggest, of a living and a reigning 
God, who will not let himself down to be affront- 



SERMON XV. 367 



ed, or trampled upon by the creatures whom he 
has formed. 

They who, in profession, admit the truth of 
God, and yet take comfort from his mercy, with- 
out looking to him who bare in his own person, 
the accomplishment of all the threatenings, do 
in fact turn that truth into a lie. They who, 
in profession, admit the justice of God, and yet 
trust in the remission of their sins, without any 
distinct acknowledgment of him on whom God 
has laid the burden of their condemnation, do 
in fact prove, that in their mouths justice is 
nothing but an unmeaning articulation. They 
who, in profession, admit the authority of those 
great and unchanging principles, which preside 
over the whole of God's moral administration, 
and yet assign to him such a loose and easy 
connivance at iniquity, as by a mere act of ten- 
derness,*to recal the every denunciation that he 
had uttered against it, do in fact put forth a sa- 
crilegious hand to the pillars of that immutabili- 
ty, by which the government of creation is up- 
held and perpetuated. Let them rest assured, 
that there is no way of reconciliation, but such 
a way as shields all the holy, and pure, and in- 
flexible attributes of the Divinity, from degra- 
dation and contempt. Out of that hiding-place 
which is made known in the gospel, all that is 
just, and severe, and inflexible in the perfections 
of God, stands in threatening array against every 
son and daughter of the species. And if they 



368 



SERMON XV. 



will not look to God as he Bets himself forth to 
us in the New Testament, — if they refuse to 
look unto him as God in Christ, reconciling the 
world unto himself, and not imputing unto them 
their trespasses,— if they set aside all that is said 
about the blood of the everlasting covenant, and 
the new and living way of access, and the man- 
ner in which the mediatorship of Christ hath re- 
paired all the indignities of sin, and shed a glory 
over the truth and justice of the lawgiver, — if 
they will still persist in looking to him through 
another channel than that of his own revelation ; 
he will persist in looking to them with the as- 
pect of a stern and un appeased enemy. He 
will not let down the honours of his inflexible 
character, for the sake of those who refuse 
his way of salvation. He will not fall in with 
the delusions of those who profess to revere 
this character, and then shake the whole bur- 
den of conscious guilt and infirmity away 
from them, by the presumption, that in some 
way or other, the mercy of God will inter- 
pose to defend them from the vengeance of 
his more severe and unrelenting perfections. 
The one and the only way, in which he dispen- 
ses mercy, is through the atonement of Christ, — 
and if your confidence be laid in any other quar- 
ter, he will put that confidence to shame. He 
will not accept the prayers of those, who can 
thus make free with the unchangeable attributes 
which belong to him. He will not descend 



SERMON XV. 369 



with such to any intercourse of affection what- 
ever. He will not own the approaches, nor 
will he deal out any boon from the storehouse 4 
his grace, to those who profess a general 
dence in his mercy — when, instead of 
which guards, and dignifies, and kec 
the whole glory and character of God, 
mercy which belies his word, which invade^ nis 
other perfections, which spoils the divine image 
of its grandeur, which breaks up the whole fa- 
bric of his moral government, and would make 
the throne of heaven the seat of an unmeaning 
pageant, the throne of an insulted and degraded 
sovereign. 

The religion of nature, — or the religion of 
unaided demonstration, — or the religion of out* 
most fashionable and philosophical schools, 
leaves this question totally undisposed of; — and 
at the same time, till the question be resolved, 
all the hopes of the human soul are in a state of 
the most fearful uncertainty. This religion 
makes God the subject of its demonstrations, 
and it draws out a list of attributes, and it 
makes the justice of God to be one of these at- 
tributes, and the placability of God to be ano- 
ther of them, and it admits that it is in virtue 
of the former perfection of his nature, that he 
makes condemnation and punishment to rest on 
the head of those who violate his law, and that it 
is in virtue of the latter perfection that he looks 
connivance, and extends pardon to such viola- 



370 SERMON XV. 

tions. Now, the question which the disciples of 
this religion have never settled, is, how to strike 
die compromise between these attributes. They 
cannot dissipate the cloud of mystery, which 
hangs over the line of demarcation that is be- 
tween them. They cannot tell in how far the 
justice of God will insist on its exactions and 
its claims, or what the extent of that disobe- 
dience is, over which the placability of God will 
spread the shelter of a generous forgiveness. 
There is a dilemma here, out of which they can- 
not unwarp themselves, — a question to which 
they can give no other answer, than the ex- 
pressive answer of their silence — and it is such 
a silence, as leaves our every apprehension un- 
quelled, and the whole burden of our unappeased 
doubts and difficulties as insupportable as before. 
What we demand is, that they shall lay down 
the steady and unalterable position of that limit, 
at which the justice of God, and the placability 
of God, cease their respective encroachments 
on each other. If they cannot tell this, they 
can tell nothing that is of any consequence, 
either to the purpose of comfort, or of direction. 
The sinner wishes to know on which side of 
this unknown and undetermined limit, his de- 
gree of sinfulness is placed. He wishes to know 
whether his offences are such as come under the 
operation of justice, or of mercy, — whether the 
one attribute will exact from him the penalty, 
or the other will smile on him connivance. It 



SERMON XV. 371 



is in vain to say, that if he repent and turn from 
them, mercy will claim him as her own, and 
recover him from the dominion of justice, and 
spread over all his sins the mantle of an ever- 
lasting oblivion. This may still be saying no- 
thing, — for the work of repentance is a work, 
which, though he should be always trying, he 
always fails in ; and in spite of his every exer- 
tion, there is a sin and a shortness in all his ser- 
vices. And when he casts his eye along the 
scale of character, he sees the better and the 
worse on each side of him ; and the difficulty 
still recurs, how far down in the scale does mercy 
extend, or how far up on this scale does justice 
carry its fiery sentence of condemnation. And 
thus it is, that he feels no fixed security, which 
he can lay hold of, — no solid ground on which he 
can lay the trust of his acceptance with God. 
And this religion, which has left the whole pro- 
blem of the attributes undetermined, which can 
furnish the sinner with no light, by which he 
may be made to perceive how justice can be 
displayed, but at the expense of mercy, or how 
mercy can be displayed, but by breaking in up- 
on the entireness of justice; this hollow, base- 
less, unsupported system, which, by mangling 
and deforming the whole aspect of the Deity, 
has virtually left man without God, — has also, by 
the faint and twilight obscurity, or rather by the 
midnight darkness in which it has involved the 
question about the point of sinfulness, at which 



374 SERMON XV. 



the one attribute begins the exercise of its ri- 
gour, and the other ceases its indulgence, not 
only left man without God, but also left him 
without any solid hope in the world. 

But, Secondly, the confidence we have been 
attempting to expose, is hostile to the cause of 
practical righteousness in the world. 

For what is the real and experimental effect 
of the obscurity in question on the practice of 
mankind ? The question about our interest 
with God, is felt to be unresolvable; and, un- 
der this feeling, no genuine attempt is made to 
resolve it. Man eases himself of the difficulty 
by putting it away from him ; and, as he can- 
not find the point of gradation in the scale of 
character, on the one side of which, there lies 
acceptance with God, and on the other side of 
it, condemnation, — he just upholds himself in 
tranquillity at any one point, and throughout 
every one variety of this gradation. 

Let the question only be put, How far down, 
in the scale of character, may this loose system 
of confidence be carried? and where is the li- 
mit between those sins, to which forgiveness 
may be looked for, and those sins from which it is 
withheld? and you will seldom find the man 
who gives an answer against himself. The world, 
in fact, is so much the home and the resting- 
place of every natural man, that you will not 
get him so to press, and so to prosecute the 
question, as to come to any conclusion, that is 



SERMON XV. 373 



at all likely to alarm him. He will not barter 
his present peace, for a concern that looks so 
distant to him as that of his eternity. The 
question touches but lightly on his feelings, and 
an answer conceived lightly, and given lightly, 
wifif be enough to pacify him. Go to the man, 
whose decent and unexceptionable proprieties 
make him the admiration of all his acquaint- 
ances, and even he will allow that he has his in- 
firmities ; but he can smother all his apprehen- 
sions, and regale his fancy with the smile of an 
indulgent God. Take, now, a descending step 
in the scale of character ; and do you think there 
is not to be met with there, the very same pro- 
cess of conscious infirmity on the one hand, and 
of vague, general, and bewildering confidence 
on the other ? Will the people of the lower sta- 
tion not do the very same thing with the people 
above them ? — Compare themselves with them- 
selves, and find equals to keep them in coun- 
tenance, and share in the average respect that 
circulates around them, and take comfort in the 
review of their very fair and neighbourlike ac- 
complishments, and with the allowance of being 
just such sinners as they are in the daily habit 
of associating with, get all their remorse, and 
all their gloomy anticipations disposed of, by 
throwing the whole burden of them, in a loose 
and general way, on the indulgence of God ? 
And where, in the name of truth and of right- 
eousness, will this stop ? We can answer that 



374 



SERMON XV, 



question. It will not stop at all. It will 
describe the whole range of human charac- 
ter ; and we challenge you to put your finger 
on that point where it is to terminate, or 
to find out the place where a barrier is to be 
raised, against the progress of this mischiev- 
ous security. It will go downwards and 
downwards, till it come to the very verge of the 
malefactor's dungeon. Nay, it will enter there; 
and we doubt not that an enlightened discerner 
may witness, even in this receptacle of out- 
casts, the operation of the very sentiment, which 
gives such peace and such buoyancy to him, 
whose moral accomplishments throw around 
him the lustre of a superior estimation. But 
this lustre will not impose on the eye of God. 
The Discerner of the heart sees that one and 
all of us are alienated from him, and strangers 
to the obligation of his high and spiritual re- 
quirements. He declares the name of Christ 
to be the only one given under heaven, where- 
by men can be saved ; and after this, every act 
of confidence, disowning his name, is an ex- 
pression of the most insulting impiety. On the 
system of general confidence, every man is left 
to sin just as much as he likes, and to take 
comfort just as much as his powers of de- 
lusion can administer to him. At this rate, 
the government of God is unhinged, — the 
whole earth is broken loose from the system of 
his administration, — he is deposed from his su- 



SERMON XV. 375 



premacy" altogether, — peace, when there is no 
peace, spreads its deadly poison over the face 
of society, — and one sentiment, of deep and fa- 
tal tranquillity about the things of God, takes 
up its firm residence in a world, which, from one 
end to the other of it, sends up the cry of rebel- 
lion against him. 

This is a sore evil. The want of a fixed and 
clearly perceptible line between the justice and 
placability of the divine nature, not only buries 
in utter darkness the question of our acceptance 
with God ; but, by throwing every thing loose 
and undetermined, it opens up the range of a 
most lawless and uncontrolled impunity for the 
disobedience of man, up from its gentler de- 
viations, and down to its most profligate and 
daring excesses. If there be no intelligible line 
to separate the exercise of the justice of God 
from the exercise of his placability, every indi- 
vidual will fix this line for himself; and he will 
make these two attributes to be yea and nay, or 
fast and loose with each other ; and he will 
stretch out the placability, and he will press 
upon the justice, just as much as to accommo- 
date the standard of his religious principles to the 
state of his religious practice ; and he will make 
every thing to square with his own existing taste, 
and wishes, and convenience ; and his mind 
will soon work its own way to a system of 
religious opinions which gives him no disturb- 
ance ; and the spirit of a deep slumber will la\ 



376 



SERMON XV. 



hold of his deluded conscience ; and thus, from 
the want of a settled line, — from the vague, am- 
biguous, and indefinite way in which this mat- 
ter is taken up, and brought to a very loose and 
general conclusion, — or, in other words, from 
that very way in which natural religion, whether 
among deists, or our more slender professors of 
Christianity, leaves the whole question, about 
the limit of the attributes, unentered upon, — 
will every man take comfort in the imagined 
tenderness of God, just as much as he stands in 
need of it, and experiment on the patience of 
God just as far as his natural desires may carry 
him, — so that when we look to the men of the 
world, as they pass smoothly onward, from the 
cradle to the grave, do we see each of them in a 
state of profound security as to his interest with 
God ; each of them solacing himself with his own 
conception about the slenderness of his guilt, 
and the kindness of an indulgent Deity ; each 
of them in a state of false and fancied peace 
with Heaven, while every affection of the inner 
man, and many of the doings of the outer man, 
bear upon them the stamp of rebellion against 
Heaven's law ; each of them walking without 
uneasiness, and without terror, while, at the 
same time, each and all of them do in fact walk 
in the counsel of their own hearts, and after the 
sight of their own eyes. 



SERMON XVI. 



THE UNION OF TRUTH AND MERCY IN THE GOSPEL. 



Psalm lxxxv. 10. 

"Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and 
peace have kissed each other." 

It was not by a simple deed of amnesty, that 
man was invited to return and be at peace with 
God. It was by a deed of expiation. It was not 
by nullifying the sanctions of the law, that man 
was offered a free and a full discharge from the 
penalties he had incurred by breaking it. It was 
by executing these sanctions on another, who 
voluntarily took them upon himself, and who, in 
so doing, magnified the law, and made it honour- 
able. To redeem us from the curse of the law, 
Christ became a curse for us. It was not by 
God lifting off our iniquities from our persons, 
and scattering them away into a region of forge t- 
fulness, without one demonstration of his abhor- 
rence, and without the fulfilment of his threat- 
enings against them ; but lifting them off from us, 
he laid them on another, who bare, in his own 
person, the punishment that we should have 

48 



SERMON' XVI. 



borne. God laid upon his own Son the iniqui- 
ties of us all. The guilt of our sins is not done 
away by a mere act of forgiveness. It is 
washed away by the blood of the Lamb. God 
set him forth a propitiation. He was smitten 
for our transgressions. He gave himself for 
us an offering and a sacrifice to God. The 
system of the gospel no more expunges the 
attribute of mercy from the character of the 
Godhead, than it expunges the attributes of 
truth and righteousness. But all the mercy 
which it offers and proclaims to a guilty world, 
is the mercy which flows upon it through the 
channel of that Mediatorship, by which his truth 
and his justice have been asserted and vindi- 
cated ; and, while it reveals to us the openness 
of this channel, it also reveals to us that every 
other which the heart of man may conceive, is 
shut, and intercepted, and utterly impassable. 
There is none other name given under heaven, 
whereby man can be saved, but the name of him 
who poured out his soul unto the death for us. 
Without the shedding of his blood, there could 
have been no remission. And he who hath not 
the Son, hath the wrath of God abiding on him. 

It is due to our want of moral sensibility* 
that sin looks so light and so trivial in our esti- 
mation. We have no adequate feeling of its 
malignity, of its exceeding sinfulness. And, li- 
able as we are to think of God, that he is alto- 
gether like unto ourselves, do we think that he 



SERMON XVI. 379 



may cancel our guilt as easily from the book of 
his condemnation, by an act of forgiveness, as 
we cancel it from our own memory, by an act 
of forgetfulness. But God takes his own way, 
and most steadfastly asserts, throughout the 
whole process of our recovery, the preroga- 
tives of his own truth, and his own righteous- 
ness. He so loved the world, as to send his 
Son to it, not to condemn, but to save. But 
he will not save us in such a way as to con- 
firm our light estimation of sin, or to let down 
the worth and the dignity of his own character. 
The method of our salvation is not left to the 
random caprices of human thought, and human 
fancy. It is a method devised for us by un- 
searchable wisdom, and made known to us by 
fixed and unalterable truth, and prescribed to 
us by a supreme authority, which has debarred 
every other method; and though we may be- 
hold no one feature, either of greatness or of 
beauty to admire in it— yet do angels admire it; 
and to accomplish it, did the Son of God move 
from the residence of his glory; and all heaven 
appears to have laboured with the magnitude 
and the mystery of the great undertaking ; and 
along the whole tract of revelation, from the 
first age of the world, do we behold the notices 
of the coming atonement ; and while man sits at 
his ease, and can see nothing to move him 
either to gratitude or to wonder, in the evolu- 
tion of that mighty scheme, by which mercy and 



380 



SERMON XVL 



truth have been made to meet together, and 
righteousness and peace to kiss each other, — it 
is striking to mark the place and the prominency 
which are given to it, in the counsels of the 
Eternal And it might serve to put us right, 
and to rebuke the levities which are so cur- 
rently afloat in this dead and darkened world, 
did we only look at the stress that is laid on 
this great work, throughout the whole of its pre- 
paration and its performance, — and how to bring 
it to its accomplishment, the Father had to send 
the Son into the world,— and to throw a veil 
over his glory, — and to put the cup of our chas- 
tisement into his hand, — and to bid the sword of 
righteous vengeance awake against his fellow^ — 
and, that he might clear a way of access to a 
guilty world, had to do it through the blood of 
an everlasting covenant, — and to lay the full 
burden of our atonement on the head of the 
innocent sufferer,— and to endure the spectacle 
of his bitterness, and his agonies, and his tears, 
till he cried out that it was finished, and so 
bowed himself and gave up the ghost 

Man is blind to the necessity, but God sees it. 
The prayer of Christ in his agony was, that the 
cup, if possible, might be removed from him. 
But it was not possible. He could have called 
twelve legions of angels, and they would have 
eagerly flown to rescue their beloved Lord from 
the hands of his persecutors. But he knew 



SERMON XVI. 381 



that the Scripture must be fulfilled, and they 
looked on in silent forbearance. It behoved him 
to undergo all this. And there was a need, and 
a propriety, why he should suffer all these things, 
ere he entered into his glory. 

We shall offer three distinct remarks on this 
method of our redemption, in order to prove 
that it fulfils the whole assertion of our text, 
that it has made mercy and truth to meet to- 
gether, and righteousness and peace to kiss 
each other. 

First, it maintains the entireness and glory 
of all the attributes of the Godhead. Secondly, 
it provides a solid foundation for the peace of 
every sinner who concurs in it. And, thirdly, 
it strengthens all the securities or the cause of 
practical righteousness among men. 

I. In darkness, as we are, about the glory and 
character of the Supreme Being, it would offer 
a violence even to our habitual conceptions of 
him, to admit of any limit, or any deduction 
from the excellencies of his nature. We should 
even think it a lessening of the Deity, were 
the extent of his perfections suct^ as that we 
should be able to grasp them within the com- 
prehension of our understandings. The pro- 
perty of chiefest admiration to his creatures is, 
that they know but a part, and are not aware 
how small a part that is, to what is unknown ; 
and never is their obeisance more lowly, than 
when under the sense of a greatness that is un- 



382 SERMON XVI. 



defined and unsearchable, they feel themselves 
baffled by the infinitude of the Creator, ft is 
not his power as attested by all that exists within 
the limits of actual discovery; but his power, as 
conceived to form and uphold a universe, whose 
outskirts are unknown. — It is not his wisdom, as 
exhibited in what has been seen by human eye ; 
but his wisdom, as pervading the unnumbered 
secrecies of a mechanism, which no eye can 
penetrate. — It is not his knowledge, as displayed 
in the greater and prophetic outlines of the his- 
tory of this world; but his knowledge, as em- 
bracing all the mazes of creation, and all the 
mighty periods of eternity. — It is not his anti- 
quity, as prior to all that is visible, and as reach- 
ing far above and beyond the remote infancy 
of nature; but his antiquity, as retiring up- 
wards from the loftiest ascent of our imagina- 
tions, and lost in the viewless depths of an ex- 
istence, that was from everlasting.— These are 
what serve to throne the Deity in grandeur in- 
accessible. It is the thought of what eye hath 
not seen, and ear hath not heard, neither hath 
it entered into the heart of man to conceive, 
that places him on such a height of mystery 
before us. And should we ever be able to 
overtake, in thought, the dimensions of any 
attribute that belongs to him, — and far more 
should we ever be able to outstrip, in fancy, a 
single feature of that character which is realised 
by the living and reigning, God — should defect 



SERMON XVI. 333 



or impotency attach to him who dwelleth in the 
light which no man can approach unto, would 
we feel as if all our most rooted and accustomed 
conceptions of the Godhead had sustained an 
overthrow, would we feel as if the sanctuary of 
him who is the King eternal and invisible had 
suffered violence. 

And this is just as true of the moral as of the na- 
tural attributes of the Godhead. When we think 
of his truth, it is a truth which, if heaven and earth 
stand committed to the fulfilment of its minutest 
article, heaven and earth must, for its vindica- 
tion, pass away. When we think of his holiness, 
it is such that, if sin offer to draw nigh, a devour- 
ing fire goeth forth to burn up and to destroy it. 
When we think of his law, it is a law which must 
be made honourable, even though, by the en- 
forcement of its sanctions, it shall sweep into 
an abyss of misery all the generations of the re- 
bellious. And yet this God, just, and righteous, 
and true, is a God of love, and of compassion, 
infinite. He is slow to anger, and of great 
mercy. He does not afflict willingly • and as a 
father rejoices over his children, does he long 
to rejoice in tenderness over us all ; and out of 
the storehouse of a grace that is inexhaustible, 
does he deal out the offers of pardon and re- 
conciliation to every one of us. Even in some 
way or other does the love of God for his crea- 
tures find its way through the barrier of their 
sinfulness ; and he who is of purer eyes than to 



384 SERMON XVI. 



behold iniquity, — he who hath spoken the word, 
and shall he not perform it, — he of whose law 
it has been said, that not one jot, or one tittle of 
it, shall pass away, till all be fulfilled, he holds 
out the overtures of friendship to the children 
of disobedience, and invites the guiltiest among 
them to the light of his countenance, in time, 
and to the enjoyment of his glory and presence, 
in eternity. 

There is no one device separate from the 
gospel, by which the glory of any one of these 
attributes can be exalted, but by the surrender 
or the limitation of another attribute. It is in the 
gospel alone that we perceive how each of them 
may be heightened to infinity, and yet each of 
them reflect a lustre on the rest. When Christ 
died, justice was magnified. When he bore the 
burden of our atonement, the truth of God re- 
ceived its vindication. When the sins of the 
world brought him to the cross, the lesson 
taught by this impressive spectacle was, holiness 
unto the Lord. All the severer perfections of 
the Godhead were, in fact, more powerfully il- 
lustrated by the deep and solemn propitiation 
that was made for sin, than they could have 
been by the direct punishment of sin itself,— 
Yet all redounding to the triumph of his mer- 
cy,— ^For mercy, in the exersice of a simple and 
spontaneous tenderness, does not make so high 
an exhibition, as mercy forcing its way through 
restraint* and difficulties, — as mercy accom- 



SERMON XVI. 



plishing its purposes by a plan of unsearchable 
wisdom, — as mercy surrendering what was most 
dear for the attainment of its object,— as the 
mercy of God, not simply loving the world, but 
so loving it as to send his only beloved Son 3 
and to lay upon him the iniquities of us all*— - 
as mercy, thus surmounting a barrier which, to 
created eye, appeared immoveable, and which 
both pours a glory on the other excellencies of 
the Godhead, and rejoices over them. 

It is the gospel of Jesus Christ, which has 
poured the light of day into all the intricacies 
of this contemplation. We there see no com- 
promise, and no surrender, of the attributes to 
each other. We see no mutual encroachment 
on their respective provinces, — no letting down 
of that entire and absolute perfection which be- 
longs to every part in the character of the God- 
head. The justice of God has not been invaded ; 
for by him, who poured out his soul unto the 
death for us, has the whole weight of this ag- 
grieved and offended attribute been borne ; and 
from that cross of agony, where he cried out 
that it was finished, does the divine Justice send 
forth a brighter and a nobler radiance of vindi- 
cated majesty, than if the minister of vengeance 
had gone forth, and wreaked the whole sentence 
of condemnation on every son and daughter 
of the species. And as the justice of God has 
suffered no encroachment, so, such is the admi- 
rable skilfulness of this expedient, that the mer= 

49 



586 SERMON XVL 



cy of God is restrained by no limitation. It is 
arrested in its offers by no question about the 
shades, and the degrees, and the varieties of 
sinfulness. It stops at no point in the de- 
scending scale of human depravity. The blood 
of Christ cleasing from all sin, has spread such 
a field for its invitations, that in the full confi- 
dence of a warranted and universal commission, 
may the messengers of grace walk over the face 
of the world, and lay the free gift of accept- 
ance at the door of every individual, and of 
every family. Such is the height, and depth, 
and breadth, and length, of the mercy of God 
in Christ Jesus ; and yet it is a mercy so exer- 
cised, as to keep the whole counsel and charac- 
ter of God unbroken, — and a mercy, from the 
display of which, there beams a brighter radi- 
ance than ever from each lineament in the 
image of the Godhead. 

Now, if the glory of God be so involved in 
this way of redemption, what shall we think of 
the disparagement that is rendered to him, and 
to all his attributes, by the man who, without 
respect to the work and the righteousness of 
Christ, seeks to be justified by his own right- 
eousness ? It is quite possible for man to toil and 
to waste his strength on the object of his salva- 
tion, and yet, by all he can make out, may be 
only widening his laborious deviation from the 
path which leads to it. Do his uttermost to 
establish a righteousness of his own, and what is 



SERMON XVI. 387 



the whole fruit of his exertion ? — the mere sem- 
blance of righteousness, without the infusion of 
its essential quality, — labour without love, — the 
drudgery of the hand, without the desire and 
devotedness of the heart, as its inspiring princi- 
ple. If the man be dissatisfied, as he certainly 
ought to be, then a sense of unexpiated guilt 
will ever and anon intrude itself upon his fears; 
and a resistless conviction of the insufficiency 
of all his performances will never cease to 
haunt and to paralyze him. In these circum- 
stances, there may be the conformity of the let- 
ter extorted from him, in the spirit of bondage; 
but the animating soul is not there, which turns 
obedience into a service of delight, and a ser- 
vice of affection. In Heaven's account, such 
obedience as this is but the mockery of a life- 
less skeleton ; and, even as a skeleton, it is both 
wanting in its parts, and unshapely* in its pro- 
portions. It is an obedience defective, even in 
the tale and measure of its external duties. 
But what pervades the whole of it by the ele- 
ment of worthlessness is, that, destitute of love 
to God, it is utterly destitute of a celestial cha- 
racter, and can never prepare an inhabitant of 
this world for the joys or the services of the 
great celestial family. 

And, on the other hand, if the man be satis- 
fied, this very circumstance gives to the right- 
eousness that he would establish for himself, the 
character of an insult upon God, instead of a 



338 



SERMON XVL 



reverential offering. It is a righteousness ac- 
companied with a certain measure of confident 
feeliug, that it is good enough for the accept- 
ance of the Lawgiver. There is in it the au- 
H daeity of a claim and a challenge upon his ap- 

probation. Short as it is, in respect of outward 
performance, and tainted within by the very 
spirit of earthliness, it is brought like a lame 
and diseased victim in sacrifice, and laid upon 
the altar before him. It is an evil and a bitter 
taing to sin against God ; but it is a still more 
direct outrage upon his attributes, to expect 
that he will look on sinfulness with complacen- 
cy. It is an open defiance to the law, to trample 
upon its requirements ; but it were a still dead- 
lier overthrow of its authority, to reverse its 
sanctions, and make it turn its threatenings 
into rewards. The sinner who disobeys and 
trembles, renders at least the homage of his 
fears to the truth and power of the Eternal. 
But the sinner who makes a righteousness of 
his infirmities, and puts a gloss upon his diso- 
bedience, and brings the accursed thing to the 
gate of the sanctuary, and bids the piercing eye 
of Omniscience look upon it, and be satisfied, — 
tell us whether the fire which cometh forth will 
burn up the offering, that it may rise in sweetly 
smelling savour to him who sitteth on the throne ; 
or will it seize on the presumptuous offerer, 
who could thus dare the inspection, and thrust 



SERMON XVI. 389 



his unprepared footstep within the precincts of 
unspotted holiness ? 

And how must it go to aggravate the offence 
of such an approach, when it is made in the 
face of another righteousness which God him- 
self hath provided, and in which alcne he hath 
proclaimed, that it is safe for a sinner to draw 
nigh. When the alternative is fairly proposed, 
to come on the merit of your own obedience 
and be tried by it, or to come on the merit of 
the obedience of Christ, and receive in your 
own person the reward which he hath purchased 
for you,^— only think of the aspect it must bear 
in the eye of Heaven, when the offer of the 
perfect righteousness is contemptuously set 
aside, and the sinner chooses to appear in his 
own character before the presence of the Eter- 
nal. When the imputation of vanity and use- 
lessness is thus fastened on all that the Son hath 
done, and on all that the Father hath devised, 
for the redemption of the guilty,— when that 
righteousness, to accomplish which Christ had 
to travail in the greatness of his strength, is thus 
held to be nothing, by creatures whose every 
thought, and every performance, have the stain 
of corruption in them — when that doctrine of 
his death, on which, in the book of God's coun- 
sel, is made to turn the deliverance of our world, 
is counted to be foolishness, — when the sinner 
thus persists in obtruding his own virtue on the 
notice of the Lawgiver, and refuses to put on, as 



390 



SERMON XVI. 



a covering of defence, the virtue of his Saviour, 
—we have only to contrast the lean shrivelled 
paltry dimensions of the one, with the faultless, 
and sustained, and Godlike perfection of the 
other, to perceive how desperate is the folly, 
and how unescapeable is the doom, of him who 
hath neglected the great salvation. 

It is thus that the refusal of Christ, as our 
righteousness, stamps a deeper and a more atro- 
cious character of rebellion on the guilty than 
before, — and it is thus that the word of his 
mouth, like a two-edged sword, performs one 
function on him who accepts, and an opposite 
function on him who despises it. If the gospel 
be not the savour of life unto life, it will be the 
savour of death unto death. If it be not a rock 
of confidence, it will be a rock of offence, and it 
will fall upon him who resists it, and grind him 
into powder. If we kiss not the Son, in the day 
of our peace, the day of his wrath is coming, 
and who shall be able to stand when his anger is 
kindled but a little ? We have already offended 
God, by the sinfulness of our practice, — we may 
yet offend him still more, by the haughtiness of 
our pretensions. The evil of our best works 
constitutes them an abomination in his sight ; 
but nothing remains to avert the hostility of his 
truth and his holiness against us, if by those 
works we seek to be justified. It will indeed be 
the sealing up of our iniquity, if our obedience, 
impregnated as it is with the very spirit of that 



SERMON XVI. 



391 



iniquity, shall be set up in rivalsfaip to the obe- 
dience of his only and well beloved Son, — if. by 
viewing the defect of our righteousness, as a 
thing of indifference, and the fulness of his, as 
a thing of no value, we shall heap insult upon 
transgression, — and if, after the provocation of 
a broken law, we shall maintain the boastful at- 
titude of him who hath won the merit and the 
reward of victory, and in this attitude add the 
farther provocation of a slighted and rejected 
gospel. 

II. We shall conclude, for the present, these 
brief and imperfect remarks, by adverting to the 
solidity of that foundation of peace, which the 
gospel scheme of mercy provides for every sin- 
ner who concurs in it. It is altogether worthy 
of observation, how, under this exquisite con- 
trivance, the very elements of disquietude, in 
a sinner's bosom, are turned into the elements 
of comfort and confidence, in the mind of a 
believer. It is the unswerving truth of God, 
which haunts the former by the thought of 
the certainty of his coming vengeance. But 
this very truth, committed to the fulfilment 
of all those promises, which are yea and 
amen in Christ Jesus, sustains the latter by 
the thought of the certainty of his coming 
salvation. It is justice, unbending justice, 
which sets such a seal on the condemnation of 
the disobedient, that every sinner, who is out of 
Christ, feels it to be irrevocable. In Christ, 



392 



SERMON XVI. 



this attribute, instead of a terror, becomes a se- 
curity; for it is just in God to justify him who 
believes ill Jesus. It is the sense of God's vio- 
lated authority* which fills the heart of ah 
awakened sinner with the fear that he is undone. 
But this authority, under the gospel proclama- 
tion, is leagued on the side of comfort, and flot 
of fear; for this is the commandment of God, 
that we believe in the name of the Lord Jesus 
Christ, as he has given us commandment. It is 
not by an act of mercy, triumphing over the 
other attributes, that pardon is extended to the 
sinful ; for, under the economy of the gospel, 
these attributes are all engaged on the side of 
mercy ; and God is not only merciful, but he is 
faithful and just in forgiving the sins of those 
who accept of Christ, as he is offered to them 
in the gospel. Those very perfections, then, 
which fix and necessitate the doom of the re- 
bellious, form into a canopy of defence around 
the head of the believer. The guarantees of a 
sinner's punishment now become the guaran- 
tees of promise; and while, like the flaming 
sword at the gate of paradise, they turn every 
way, and shut him out of every access to the 
Deity but one, — let him take to that one, and they 
instantly become to him the sureties and the 
safeguard of that hiding-place into which he 
has entered. 

The foundation, then, of a believer's peace, 
is, in every way, as sure and as solid as is the 



SERMON XVI. 



393 



foundation of a sinner's fears. The very truth 
which makes the one tremble, because staked 
to the execution of an unfulfilled threat, mini- 
sters to the other the strongest consolation. It 
is impossible for God to lie, says an awakened 
sinner, and this thought pursues him with the 
agony of an arrow sticking fast. It is impos- 
sible for God to lie, says a believer; and as 
e hath not only said but sworn, there are two 
immutable things by which to anchor the con- 
fidence of him, who hath fled for refuge to 
the hope set before him. He staggers not at 
the promises of God, because of unbelief. He 
holds himself steadfast, by simply counting him 
to be faithful who hath promised. It is through 
that very faith, by being strong in which he 
gives glory to God, that he gains peace to his 
own heart; and the justice which beams a ter- 
ror on all who stand without, utterly passes by 
the shielded head of him, who hath turned to 
the strong hold, and taken a place under the 
shadow of his wings, who hath satisfied the jus- 
tice of God, and taken upon himself the burden 
of its fullest vindication. 



SERMON XVII. 



THE PURIFYING INFLUENCE OF THE CHRISTIAN 
FAITH. 



Acts xxvi. 18. 
« Sanctified by faith. 5 ' 

III. It is a matter of direct and obvious un- 
derstanding, how the law, by its promises and 
its threatenings, should exert and influence over 
human conduct. We seem to walk in a plain 
path, when we pass onwards from the enforce- 
ments of the law, to the effect of them on the 
fears, and the hopes, and the purposes of man. 
Do this, and you shall live ; and do the oppo- 
site of this, and you shall forfeit life,— form two 
clear and distinct processes, in the conceiving 
of which, there is no difficulty whatever. The 
motive and the movement both stand intelli- 
gibly out to the discernment of common sense ; 
nor in the application of such argument as this, 
to the design of operating on the character or 
life of a human being, is there any mystery to 



SERMON XVII. 



395 



embarrass, any hidden step, which, by baffling 
our every attempt to seize upon it, leaves us in 
a state of helpless perplexity. 

The same is not true of the gospel, or of the 
manner in which it operates on the springs of 
human action. It is not so readily seen, how 
its privileges can be appropriated by faith, and 
at the same time its precepts can retain their 
practical authority over the conduct of a be- 
liever. There is an alarm, and an honest alarm, 
on the part of many, lest a proclamation of free 
grace unto the world, should undermine all our 
securities for the cause of righteousness in the 
world. They look with jealousy upon the free- 
ness. They fear lest a deed so ample and uncon- 
ditional, of forgiveness for the past, should give 
rise, in the heart of a sinner, to a secure opinion 
of his impunity for the future. What they dread 
is, that to proclaim such a freeness of pardon on 
the part of God, would be to proclaim a cor- 
responding freeness of practice on the part 
of man. They are able to comprehend how 
the law, by its direct enforcements, should 
operate in keeping men from sin ; but they are 
not able to comprehend how, when not under 
the law, but under grace, there should continue 
the same motives to abstain from sin, as those 
intelligible ones which the law furnishes,* or 
even other motives, of more powerful opera- 
tion. We are quite sure, that there is some- 
thing here which needs to be made plain to the 



396 



SERMON XVII. 



understandings of a very numerous class of 
inquirers,- — a knot of difficulty which needs to 
be untied, — a hidden step in the process of ex- 
planation, on which they may firmly pass from 
what is known to what is unknown. There are 
not two terms, in the whole compass of human 
language, which stand more frequently and 
more familiarly contrasted with each other, than 
those of faith and good works ; and this, not 
merely on the question of our acceptance before 
God, but also on the question of the personal 
character and acquirements of a true disciple of 
Christ. It is positively not seen, how the pos- 
session of the one should at all stimulate to the 
performance of the other, — how the peace of 
the gospel should reside in the same heart, from 
which there emanates, on the life of a believer, 
the practice of the gospel, — how a righteous- 
ness that is without the deeds of the law, should 
stand connected, in the actual history of him 
who obtains it, with a zealous, and diligent, and 
every-day doing of these deeds. There is much 
in all this, to puzzle the man who is experi- 
mentally a stranger to the truth as it is in Jesus. 
Nor does it at all serve to extricate or to en- 
lighten him, when he is made to perceive, that, 
in point of fact, those men who most cordially 
assent to the doctrine of salvation being all of 
grace and not of works, are most assiduous in 
so walking, and in so working, and in so pains- 
taking, as if salvation were all of works, and not 



SERMON XVII. 



39? 



of grace. The fact is quite obvious and unques- 
tionable. But the principle on which it rests, 
remains a mystery to the general eye of the 
world. They marvel, but they go no farther. 
They see that thus it is, but they see not how it 
is ; and they put it down among those inexpli- 
cable oddities which do at times occur, both 
in the moral and natural kingdom of the crea- 
tion. 

But in all our attempts to dissipate this ob- 
scurity, it is well to advert to the total difference 
between him who has the faith, and him who 
has it not. The one has the materials of the 
argument under his eye, and within the grasp 
of his handling. The other may be able to re- 
cognize in the argument, a logical and consist- 
ent process ; but he is at a loss about the simple 
conceptions, which form the materials of the 
argument. He is like a man who can perform 
all the manipulations of an algebraical process, 
while he feels not the force or the significancy 
of the symbols. His habits of ratiocination 
enable him to perceive, that there is a connec- 
tion between the ideas in the argument. But 
the ideas themselves are not manifest to him. 
It is not in the power of reasoning to supply 
this want. Reasoning cannot create the pri- 
mary materials of the argument. It only ce- 
ments them together. And here it is, that you 
are met by the impotency of human demonstra- 
tion, — and are reduced to the attitude of knock- 



398 



SERMON XVII. 



ing at a door which you cannot open, — and feel 
your need of an enlightening spirit, — and are 
made to perceive, that it is only on the threshold 
of Christianity, where you can hold the inter- 
course of a common sympathy and understand- 
ing with the world, — and that, to be admitted 
to the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, you 
must pass into a region of manifestation, where 
the world cannot follow, but where it will cast 
the imputation of madness, and of mysticism 
after you. 

Without attempting to define faith, as to the 
nature of it, which could not be done but with 
other words more simple than itself, let us look 
to the objects of faith, and see whether there do 
not emanate from them, a sanctifying influence 
on the heart of every real belie ver. 

First, then, the whole object of faith, is the 
matter of the testimony of God in Scripture. So 
that though faith be a single principle, and is 
designated in language by a single term, — yet 
this by no means precludes it from being such 
a principle, as comes into contact, and is con- 
versant, with a very great variety of objects. In 
this respect it may bear a resemblance to sight, 
or hearing, or any other of the senses, by which 
man holds communication with the external 
things that are near him, and around hiui. The 
same eye which, when open, looks to a friend, 
and can, from that very look, afford entrance 
into the heart for an emotion of tenderness, will 



SERMON XVII. 



399 



also behold other visible things; and take in an 
appropriate influence from each of them, — will 
behold the prospect of beauty that is before it, 
and thence obtain gratification to the taste, — or 
Will behold the sportive felicity of animals, and 
thence obtain gratification to the benevolence, 
— or will behold the precipice beneath, and 
thence obtain a warning of danger, or a direction 
of safety, — or may behold a thousand different 
objects, and obtain a thousand different feelings 
and different intimations. 

Now the same of faith. It has been called 
the eye of the mind. But whether this be a 
well conceived image or not, it certainly affords 
an inlet to the mind for a great variety of com- 
munications. The Apostle calls faith the evi- 
dence of things not seen, — not of one such 
thing, but of very many such things. The man 
who possesses faith, can be no more intellec- 
tually blind to one of these things, and at the 
same time knowing and believing as to another 
of them, than the man who possesses sight can, 
with his eye open, perceive one external object, 
and have no perception of another, which stands 
as nearly and as conspicuously before him. 
The man who is destitute of sight, will never 
know what it is to feel the charm of visible scen- 
ery. But grant him sight ; and he will not only be 
made alive to this charm, but to a multitude of 
other influences, all emanating from the various 
objects of visible nature, through the eye upon 



400 SERMON XVII. 



the mind, and against which his blindness had 
before opposed a hopeless and invincible bar- 
rier. And the man who is destitute of faith, 
will never know what it is to feel the charm of 
the peace-speaking blood of Christ. But grant 
him faith ; and he will not only be made alive to 
this charm, but to a multitude of other influ- 
ences, all emanating from the various truths of 
revelation, through this intellectual organ, on 
the heart of him who was at one time blind, 
but has now been made to see. This will help, 
in some measure, to clear up the perplexity to 
which we have just now adverted. They who 
are under its darkening influence, conceive of 
the faith which worketh peace, that it has only 
to do with one doctrine, and that that one doc- 
trine relates to Christ, as a peace-offering for sin. 
Now, it is very true, that it has to do with this 
one doctrine ; but it has also to do with other 
doctrines, all equally presented before it in the 
very same record, and the view of all which is 
equally to be had, from the very same quarter 
of contemplation. In other words, the- very 
same opening of the mental eye, through which 
the peace of the gospel finds entrance into the 
bosom of a faithful man, affords an entrance for 
the righteousness of the gospel along with it. 
The truth that Christ died for the sins of the 
world, will cast upon his mind its apppropriatf 
influence. But so also will the truth that 
Christ is to judge the world, and the truth that 



SERMON XVII. 401 



unless ye repent ye shall perish, and the truth 
that they who have a right to the tree of life, 
are they who keep the commandments, and the 
truth, that an unrighteous man shall not inherit 
the kingdom of God. If a man see not every 
one object that is placed within the sphere of his 
natural vision, he sees none of them, and his 
whole body is full of darkness. If a man be- 
lieve the Bible to be the word of God, he will 
read it ; but if he read it, and believe not every 
one truth that lies within the grasp of his un- 
derstanding, he believes none of them, and is 
in darkness, and knoweth not whither he is go- 
ing. 

If I open the door of my mind to the word 
of God, I as effectually make it the repository 
of various truths, as, if I open the door of my 
chamber, and take in the Bible, I make this 
chamber the repository of the book, and of 
every chapter, and of every verse, that is con- 
tained in it. I thus bring my mind into con- 
tact with every one influence, that every one 
truth is fitted to exercise over it. If there be 
nothing in these truths contradictory to each 
other, (and if there be, let this set aside, as it, 
ought, the authority of the whole communica- 
tion,) then the mind acts a right and consistent 
part in believing each of them, and in submit- 
ting itself to the influence of each of them. And 
thus it is, that believing the propitiation which is 
through the blood of Christ, for the remission 

51 



402 



SERMON XVII 



of sins that are past, I riiay feel through hhn 
the peace of reconciliation with the Father ; 
and believing that he who cometh unto Christ 
for forgiveness must forsake all, I may also 
feel the necessity which lies upon me of de- 
parting from all iniquity ; and believing that in 
myself there is no strength, for the accom- 
plishment of such a task, I may look around 
for other expedients, than such as can be de- 
vised by my own natural wisdom, or carried in- 
to effect by my own natural energies ; and be- 
lieving that, in the hand of Christ there are 
gifts for the rebellious, and that one of these 
gifts is the Holy Spirit to strengthen his disci- 
ples, I may look to him for my sanctification, 
even as I look unto him for my redemption ; 
and believing that the gift is truly promised as 
an answer to prayer, I may mingle a habit of 
prayer, with a habit of watchfulness and of en- 
deavour. And thus may I go abroad over the 
whole territory of divine truth, and turn to its 
legitimate account every separate portion of it, 
and be in all a trusting, and a working, and a 
praying, and a rejoicing, and a trembling dis- 
ciple, — and that, not because I have given my- 
self up to the guidance of clashing and con- 
tradictory principles,— but because, with a faith 
commensurate to the testimony of God, I give 
myself over in my whole mind, and whole per- 
son, to the authority of a whole Bible, 



SERMON XVII. 403 



Bat, secondly, let us take what some may 
think a more restricted view of the object of 
faith, and suppose it to be Jesus Christ in his 
person and in his character. It is a summary, 
but at the same time, a most true and substan- 
tial affirmation, that we are saved by faith in 
Christ. And yet this very affirmation, true as 
it is, may have been so misunderstood as to 
darken the minds of many, into the very mis- 
conception that we are attempting to expose« 
I could not be said to have faith in an ac- 
quaintance, if I believed not all that he told 
me. Nor have I faith in Christ, if I believe 
not every item of that communication of which 
he is the author, either by himself or by his 
messengers. So that faith in Christ, so far from 
excluding any of the truths of the Bible, com- 
prehends our assent to them all. But we are 
willing to admit, that the phrase is calculated to 
fasten our attention more particularly on such 
truth as relates, in a more immediate manner, to 
the person and the doings of the Saviour. Take 
it in this sense, and you will find, that though 
eminently and directly fitted to work peace in 
the heart of a believer, it is just as directly and 
as powerfully on the side of his practical right- 
eousness. When I think of Christ, and think 
of him as one who has poured out his soul unto 
the death for me, I feel a confidence in draw- 
ing near unto God. When employed in this 
contemplation, I look to him as a crucified Sa- 



404 



SERMON XVII. 



viour. But without keeping mine eye for a 
single moment from off his person >— without 
another exercise of mind, than that by which I 
look unto Jesus, simply and entirely, as he is set 
forth unto me, — I also behold him at one time as 
an exalted Saviour, and at another time as a 
commanding Saviour, and at another time as a 
strengthening Saviour. In other words, by the 
mere work of faith in Christ, I bring my heart 
into contact with all those motives, and all those 
elements of influence, which give rise to the new 
obedience of the gospel. When the veil betwixt 
me and the Saviour is withdrawn, — when God 
shines in my heart with the light of the know- 
ledge of his own glory in the face of his Son, — 
when the Spirit taketh of the things of Christ, 
and showeth them unto me, and I am asked 
which of the things it is that is most fitted to 
arrest a convicted sinner, in the midst of his 
cries and prayers for deliverance, — I would say, 
that it was Christ lifted up on the cross for his 
offences, and pouring out the blood of that migh- 
ty expiation, by which the guilt of them all is 
washed away. This is the rock on which he 
will build all his hopes of acceptance before 
God. He will look unto Christ, and be at peace. 
But this is not the only attitude in which Christ 
is revealed to him. He will look to Christ as 
an example. He will look to him as a teacher. 
He will look to him in all the capacities which 
are attached to the person, or identified with 



SERMON XVII. 405 



the doings of the Saviour. He will look to him, 
asserting his right of authority and disposal over 
those whom he has purchased unto himself. He 
will, by the eye of faith, see that rebuking 
glance which our Saviour cast over the miscon- 
duct of his disciples, — and which, when Peter 
saw, by the eye of sight, he was so moved by 
the spectacle, that he went out and wept bitter- 
ly. That meekness and gentleness of Christ, 
in the name of which, Paul besought his dis- 
ciples to walk no more after the flesh, will be 
present in its influence on those who, though 
they see Mm not, yet believe him, and have 
their conceptions filled and satisfied with his 
likeness. They will behold him to be an exalt- 
ed Prince, as well as an exalted Saviour, — and 
they will count it a faithful saying, that he came 
to sanctify as well as redeem, — and they will 
look upwards to his present might as a command- 
er, as well as forwards to Ms future majesty as 
a judge, — and they will be thoroughly persuad- 
ed, that to persevere in sin, is altogether to 
thwart the great aim of the enterprize of our 
redemption, — and they will understand, as Paul 
did, who affirmed, with expostulations and tears, 
that the enemies of righteousness are also the 
enemies of the cross ; — and thus, from Clmst, in 
all his various attitudes, will a moralizing power 
descend on the hearts of those who really be- 
lieve in him, — and as surely as any man pos- 



Wo 



SERMON XVIL 



messes the faith that is in Christ Jesus, so surely 
will he be sanctified by that faith. 

And, thirdly, let us confine our attention still 
farther, to one particular article of our faith. 
Paul was determined to know nothing, save 
Jesus Christ, and him crucified. Now, conceive 
faith to attach itself to the latter clause of this 
verse, and that Christ crucified, for the time 
being, is the single object of its contemplation. 
There is still no such thing as a true faith, at- 
taching itself to this one object exclusively ; 
and though at one time it may be the sole con- 
templation which engrosses it, at other times it 
may have other contemplations. If, in fact, it 
shut out those other contemplations, which are 
furnished by the subject-matter of the testimo- 
ny of God, it may be proved now, and it will 
be proved in the day of reckoning, to be no 
faith at all. But just as it has been said, that 
the mind can only think of one thing at a time, 
so faith may be employed, for a time, in looking 
only towards one object; and as we said before, 
let Christ crucified be conceived to be that one 
object. From what has been said already, it 
will be seen, that this one exercise of faith will 
not counteract the legitimate effect of the other 
exercises. But we should like to compute the 
influence of this one exercise on the heart and 
life of a believer. In the case of an Antinomi- 
an, the doctrine of the atonement may furnish 



SERMON XVII. 



4Q7 



a pretext arid a pacification to his conscience, 
under a wilful habit of perseverance in iniquity. 
But if this partial faith of his be not a real faith, 
then we are not responsible for his conduct, nor 
ought he to be at all quoted as an exception 
against that alliance, for which we are contend- 
ing, between the faith of the gospel and the 
cause of practical righteousness. Only grant 
the faith to be real, and as there is no one doc- 
trine of the Bible, out of which it may not gath- 
er a purifying influence to the heart, — so out of 
this doctrine of the atonement, will such a puri- 
fying influence descend most abundantly on the 
heart of every genuine believer. 
• • For, it first takes away a wall of partition, 
which, in the case of every man w ho has not 
received this doctrine, lies across the path of 
his obedience at the very cominencement. So 
long as I think that it is quite impossible for 
me so to run as to obtain, I will not move a 
single footstep. Under the burden of a hope- 
less controversy between me and God, I feel 
as it were weighed down to the inactivity of 
despair. I live without hope ; and so long as I 
do so, I live without God in the world. And 
besides, he, while the object of my terror, is also 
the object of my aversion. The helpless ne- 
cessity under which I labour, so long as th e 
question of my guilt remains unsettled, is to 
dread the Being whom I am commanded to love. 
I may occasionally cast a feeble regard towards 



408 



SERMON XVII, 



that distant and inaccessible Lawgiver : But so 
long as I view him shrouded in the darkness of 
frowning majesty, I can place in him no trust, 
and I can bear towards him no filial tenderness. 
I may occasionally consult the requirements 
of his law T : But when 1 look to the uncan- 
celled sentence that is against me, I can never 
tread, with hopeful or assured footsteps, on the 
career of obedience. But let me look unto 
Christ lifted up for our offences, and see the 
hand writing of ordinances that was against us, 
and which was contrary unto us, nailed to his 
cross, and there blotted out, and taken out of 
the way ; and then I see the barrier in question 
levelled with the ground. I now behold the 
way of repentance cleared of the obstructions, 
by which it was aforetime rendered utterly 
impassable. This is the will of God, — even 
your sanctification, may be sounded a thousand 
times in the ear of an unbeliever, and leave 
him as immoveable as it found him; because, 
while under a sense of unexpiated guilt, he 
sees a mighty parapet before him, which he 
cannot scale. But if the same words be sound- 
ed in the ears of a believer, they will put him 
into motion. For to him the parapet is opened 
up, and the rough way is made smooth, and the 
mountain and the hill are brought low, and the 
valley of separation is filled, and he is made to 
see the salvation of God. The path of obedi- 
ence is made level before him, and he enters 



SERMON XVII. 409 



it with the inspiration of a new and invigorating 
principle ; and that love to God, which the 
consciousness of guilt will ever keep at a dis- 
tance from the heart, now takes up the room 
of this terrifying, and paralysing, and alienat- 
ing sentiment; and the reception of this doc- 
trine of atonement is just as much the turning 
point of a new character, as it is the turning 
point of a new hope ; and it is the very point, 
in the history of every human soul, at which 
the alacrity of gospel obedience takes its com- 
mencement, as well as the cheerfulness of gos- 
pel anticipations. Till this doctrine be be- 
lieved, there is no attempt at obedience at all ; 
or else, it is such an obedience as is totally 
unaniinated by the life and the love of real 
godliness. And it is not till this doctrine has 
taken possession of the mind, that any man can 
take up the language of the Psalmist, and say, 
" Lord, I am thy servant, I am thy servant, 
thou hast loosed my bonds." 

Conceive, then, a believer with the career of 
obedience thus opened up and made hopeful to 
him, — conceive him with the necessity of obe- 
dience made just as authentically known to him, 
as are the tidings of his deliverance from guilt, 
— conceive a man who, by the act of render- 
ing homage to the truth of God, rests a con- 
fidence in the death of Christ for pardon, and 
who also, by the very same act. subscribes to 
the sayings of Christ about repentance, and 

52 



410 SERMON XVIL 



the new walk of the new creature, — and then 
let me ask you to think of the securities which 
encompass his mind, and protect it from the 
delusion that we have already alluded to. We 
have said that the peace which is felt in a vague 
apprehension of God's mercy, and which makes 
no account of his truth, or of his justice, has 
the effect of making him who entertains it 
altogether stationary, in point of acquirement* 
With the semblance of good that he has about 
him, he will meet the sterner attributes of the 
Deity. For his defect of real good, he will 
draw on the indulgent attributes of the Deity. 
He will make the character of God, suit itself 
to his own character, so that any stimulus to 
advance or to perfect it, shall be practically 
done away. And thus it is, that along the 
whole range of human accomplishment, you 
may observe an unvaried state of repose, — the 
repose, in fact, of death, — for the repose of men 
who brought to the estimate of a spiritual law, 
will be found, to use the significant language of 
the Bible, dead in trespasses and sins, — sinning 
at one time without remorse, trusting at another 
time without foundation. 

Now the gospel scheme of mercy is clear of 
this abuse altogether. It comes forth upon 
the sinner with an antidote against this securi- 
ty, just as strong and as prominent as is its an- 
tidote against despair. Insomuch that the 
state of the believer, in respect of motive and 



SERMON XVII. 411 



of practical influence, is the very reverse of 
what we have now adverted to. In the act of 
becoming a believer, he awakens from the 
deep and the universal lethargy of nature. 
With his new hope commences his new life. 
He ceases to be stationary, — and what is more, 
he never ceases to be progressive. He does 
not satisfy himself with barely moving onwards 
to a higher point in the scale of human attain- 
ment, and then sitting down with the senti- 
ment that it is enough. He never counts it 
enough. The practical attitude of the be- 
liever is that of one who is ever looking for- 
wards. The practical movement of the be- 
liever is that of one who is ever pressing for- 
wards. He could not, without a surrender of 
those essential principles which make him what 
he is, tarry nt any one point in the gradation 
of moral excellence. It is not more insepara- 
ble from him to be ever doing well, than it is 
inseparable from him to be ever aspiring to do 
better. So that the paltry question about the 
degrees and the comparisons of virtue, he en- 
tertains not for a moment; and, with all the 
aids and expedients of the gospel for helping 
his advancement, does he strenuously prosecute 
the work of conforming to the precept of the 
gospel, — to be growing in grace, to be perfecting 
himself in holiness. 

It has been a much controverted question, 
how far this process of continual advancement 



412 SERMON'XVIL 



will carry a believer in this world. Some af- 
firm it will carry him to the point of absolute 
perfection. Others more cautiously satisfy 
themselves by the remark, that whether perfec- 
tion be ever our attainment or not, it ought 
always to be our aim. And one thing seems 
to be certain,— that there is no such perfec- 
tion in this world, as might bring along with 
it the repose of victory. Paul counted all 
that was behind as nothing, and he pressed 
onwards. And it is the experience of every 
Christian, who makes a real business of his 
sanctification, that there is a struggle be- 
tween nature and grace, even unto the end. 
There is no discharge from this warfare, while 
we are in the body. To the last hour of life 
there will be the presence of a carnal nature 
to humble him, and to make him vigilant ; and, 
with every true Christian, there will be the 
ascendancy of grace, so as that this nature shall 
not have the dominion over him. The corruption 
of the old man will be effectually resisted ; but 
not, we fear, till the materialism of our actual 
frames be resolved into dust, will this corruption 
be destroyed. The flesh lusting against the 
spirit, and the spirit against the flesh, is the short 
but compendious description of the state of eve- 
ry believer in the world ; — and could the evil 
and adverse principle be eradicated, as well as 
overborne, — could a living man bid the sinful 
propensity, with all its workings and all its in* 



SERMON XVII. 413 



clinations, conclusively away from him,— could 
the authority of the new creature obtain such 
unrivalled sway over the whole machinery of 
the affections and the doings, that resistance 
was no longer felt, and the battle was brought 
to its termination, — if it were possible, we say, 
for a disciple, on this side of the grave, to 
attain the eminency of a condition so glo- 
rious, then we know not of what use to him 
would be either a death or a resurrection, 
or why he might not bear his earthly taber- 
nacle to heaven, and set him down by direct 
translation amongst the company of the celes- 
tial. But no! There hangs about the person 
of the most pure and perfect Christian upon 
earth, some mysterious necessity of dying. 
That body, styled with such emphasis a vile 
body, by the Apostle, must be pulverized and 
made over again. And not till that which is 
sown in corruption shall be raised in incor- 
ruption, — not till that which is sown in weak- 
ness shall be raised in power, — not till that 
which is sown a natural body shall be raised a 
spiritual body,— not till the soul of man occupy 
another tenement, and the body which now 
holds him be made to undergo some unknown 
but glorious transformation, will he know what 
it is to walk at perfect liberty, and, with the 
full play of his then emancipated powers, to 
expatiate without frailty, and without a flaw, in 
the service of his God. 



414 SERMON XVIL 



We know that the impression which many 
have of the disciples of the gospel is, that their 
great and perpetual aim is, that they may be 
justified,— that the change of state which they 
are ever aspiring after, is a change in their for- 
ensic state, and not in their personal, — that if 
they can only attain delivery from wrath, they 
will be satisfied,— and that the only use they 
make of Christ, is, through his means, to obtain 
an erasure of the sentence of their condemna- 
tion. Now, though this, undoubtedly, be one 
great design of the gospel, it is not the design 
in which it terminates. It may, in fact, be 
only considered as a preparation for an ulte- 
rior accomplishment altogether. Christ came 
to redeem us from all iniquity, and to purify us 
unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good 

W r orks. It were selfishness, under the guise of 

sacredness, to sit down, in placid contentment, 
with the single privilege of justification. It is 
only the introduction to higher privileges. 

Bu,t not till we submit to the righteousness of 
Christ, as the alone meritorious plea of our ac- 
ceptance, shall we become personally righteous 
ourselves, — not till we see the blended love and 
holiness of the Godhead, in our propitiation, 
shall we know how to combine a confidence in 
his mercy, with a reverence for his character, — 
not till we look to that great transaction, by 
Avhich the purity of the divine nature is vindi- 
cated, and yet the sinner is delivered from the 



SERMON XVII. 415 



coming vengeance, shall we be freed from the 
dominion of sin, or be led to admire and to 
imitate the great Pattern of excellence. The 
renewing Spirit, indeed, is withheld from all 
those who withhold their consent from the doc- 
trine of Christ, and of him crucified. Paul was 
determined to know nothing else ; and it is in 
this knowledge, and in this alone, that we are 
renewed after the image of him who created 
us. 

Now the God of peace, that brought again 
from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great shep- 
herd of the sheep, through the blood of the 
everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every 
good work to do his will, working in you that 
which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus 
Christ ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. 
Amen. 



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